


On pointed feet and broken dreams

by Nigg



Series: Let Me Dance With You For Eternity [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Anxiety, Ballet, Dancing, Friendship, Happy Ending, Lot of dancing, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Phichit Chulanont Is a Good Friend, Phichit has a plan, Playing with canon events but turning tables a bit, References to Canon, different POVs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-01-09 17:52:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 65,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12281511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nigg/pseuds/Nigg
Summary: Phichit grinned, got up from the table and opened his list with a solemn gesture in front of himself, then cleared his throat and announced: "Today we are going to start a project. It is called ‘How to make Yuuri Katsuki forget about Victor Nikiforov and start loving to dance again.’"Yuuri is a ballet dancer who desperately wants to share the same stage of his lifelong idol, Victor Nikiforov, but fails his audition to the Bolshoi ballet and falls into a downward spiral of anxiety from which his friend Phichit tries to save him.





	1. How to make Yuuri Katsuki forget about Victor Nikiforov and start loving to dance again

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! This is my first fic, I'm posting the first chapter as an experiment, depending on the reactions I will decide whether to keep on writing it or not. I wanted to post this for the anniversary yesterday but it took me longer than I expected to fix grammar and typos. It is going to feature some canon references, but some things are going to happen differently. I hope you enjoy! English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistake. Feel free to comment and let me know what you think!

“ _Demi-plié_ , _dégagé_ , _pointe_. Fourth position, _allongé_ , look high up your right arm, breathe, _arabesque_ , _soutenu_ and _fouetté fouetté fouetté fouetté_ until you are no longer able to keep your balance. End gracefully and leave the center for the next one, please.”  
The woman’s voice was harmonious but firm and they were frozen in place. The _piéce_ she had just instructed them to do was not particularly difficult, but they knew one singular mistake could mean they would have to leave the room and go home for good. The pressure was high and every one of them had worked hard for this moment, for this opportunity to become part of the Bolshoi Ballet Company. The audition was coming to its end and the majority of the people attempting it had already been asked to leave, only twenty young men out of the original hundreds that were there in the morning remained. And this was only the first step. That day they were going to choose six people among them and in the upcoming weeks the number could be reduced even more if they couldn’t keep up with the training.  
It was almost 3 o’clock in the afternoon and the boys were tired from the number of _piéces_ , exercises and tests they have been subjected to since the morning, exhaustion was starting to become an issue in the grace of their movements and the technique they had spent years to perfect was faltering due to the pain they felt in every muscle.  


Despite the pain and the worries they knew they had to keep going on and do as they had been told, so they moved to align in the corner of the room to start the latest sequence of steps the woman instructed.  
As the first of the line was getting in the fifth position in the center ready to start, they caught a glimpse of unmistakable blue eyes and all the people in the room except for the rigid woman standing near the entrance stopped breathing. The star of the company, Victor Nikiforov, was there and he was watching them with a smile that made their hearts stop.  


“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, please go on.”  


Yuuri froze in his place. Victor was there, watching him and he wasn’t ready. All the training hours, all the sacrifices he had made became nothing, his mind collapsed. He hated going first in doing an exhibition of any kind, but his kindness and unselfishness had had the upper hand and seeing the others were more fatigued than he was had made him swallow his insecurities and put himself in place before them. His stamina had always been one of his strengths and he thought that he could give them a moment to catch their breaths without losing his composure and menacing his own performance. But that was before.  


The pianist had already started playing and the woman was looking at him with annoyance as the first eight beats of the music, which were supposed to signal his entrance, passed without him moving a muscle. The second eights were coming to their end, too and it required all of his determination to tell himself he really needed to do something. He started the _piéce_ and slipped in the _dégagé_ , his right pointe missing the floor by an inch forcing him to support himself on the heel, which earned him a disgusted look from Lilia, former prima ballerina of the company he was trying to become part of and now supervisor of the auditions.  


Yuuri could not breathe, his heart was beating hard in his chest, threatening to break out from his throat and his mouth was dry. He kept going on and his _allongé_ , usually elegant and beautiful looked like the movement of a child raising a hand to catch attention, trying not to drown in a swimming pool. The hand was too stiff, the arm too high and the gaze expressionless and empty. The ‘breathe’ part, which was supposed to be a resting moment before the next movement became the most difficult, he gasped and choked and he fell just as he was about to start going into the _arabesque_. The other boys in the line behind him watched him with sympathy and guilt because they knew a similar fate could have awaited each one of them at the unexpected appearance of the new spectator, but Lilia was unforgiving. He looked at her notebook briefly and without bothering to lift her eyes again she traced a straight line on a name written on it and called out loud: “Number 141, you can leave the room, thank you.”  


The person wearing the mentioned number got up from the ground, where he had collapsed a few moments earlier, a weight on his stomach and a string of tears starting to threaten the corner of his eyes. He watched briefly the open door which led outside of the big and bright room full of mirrors where he spent most of that day, he looked at the woman next to it and the man behind and panicked even more, realizing not only that he had just humiliated himself in front of the person he admired the most, but that he had to walk just a few inches by that same person to leave the room. He turned to Lilia in a mute plea, but she was already waiting for the next dancer to move. She no longer cared about him.  


He rushed out of the room trying to avoid the blue eyes he knew so well thanks to the posters he had his room plastered with, hoping not to be seen or recognized. He ran, without thinking about his _pointes_ or about keeping his grace until he was safely hidden into the changing room and only then he let himself release a breath that turned into a sob. He collapsed on the ground of the room, hugging his knees tightly before him. His chest was no longer heavy, now he was just feeling empty, disappointment washing over him. He hated himself for failing so badly. He ruined everything he had worked for up until that moment and he couldn’t see another chance before him to amend for what happened.  


He was so lost in his self-pity that he didn’t notice the time passing nor the sound of another person entering the room until a shadow loomed over him and he felt a kick in the wall next to his back.  


“Ohi!” The figure yelled. He looked up from his position to see a boy a lot younger than his age, towering over him with a menacing look in his eyes. “I need to change, so leave already! You have been here half an hour, what are you waiting? Are you some kind of a perv?”  


Yuuri shivered and tried to speak, but he couldn’t manage to form coherent words. He was sure he had already seen the boy somewhere before.  


“I-I-I am so-sorry” He managed to say, trying to get up from the floor for the second time in an hour. Now that he was on his feet he realized he was taller than the other boy, but that didn’t mean he was any less scary, so he kept his gaze low while the other pointed a finger to his chest and looked in his eyes with hatred and disgust, teeth gritted and nose barely an inch from his skin.  


“Next year I am going to be old enough to try the audition, so don’t bother coming here again, because I will be the only one to pass by the end of the week, you loser!” He barked and Yuuri freed himself hastily and run out of the room, quickly gathering his things without bothering to change clothes.  
Too ashamed to go back in the changing room he headed to a bathroom at the end of the corridor and hid inside of it to catch his breath once again and finally change into ordinary clothes, tossing aside the number 141, still pinned at his leotard, with disappointment.

He was walking out of the building when his phone rang. He picked up and answered with a low voice: “Hi.” – “No, it didn’t.” – “I messed up. I am sorry” he managed to say, the tears again threatening to fall from his eyes. He closed the call feeling more ashamed that he had been before. Realization hit him that he had not only failed himself, but his family and friends and his home country, too, since everyone had high hopes on him, thanks to the success he had been having since his debut in national and international dance competitions and to his admittance in the Detroit Ballet Company, where he trained and worked in the past five years.

As if on cue, his phone rang again, this time the person on the other side of the line being one of his friends from the company.  


“Hi, Phichit.” He answered cooly, trying not to show his emotions.  


“Hiii! How did it go? Have you managed to pass the audition? Have you seen Victor??”  


The first part was easier to answer, so he decided to focus on that, trying to avoid the last question.  


“No. I fell on the fouettés”, it wasn’t completely a lie, he thought. “I managed into the last twenty, but nothing more. I probably shouldn’t bother to try again next year and just give up. I think I will go home now.” Home. He hadn’t been home for five years since he started working at the company, but he didn’t want to go back there. America had always been a means to an end, the final goal being Russia, for Russians are the best dancers in the World, for Russia means…  


“Yes! Come home! I will wait at the airport and we can go out and eat horrible food, forgetting our diet plan for a day and you can tell me IN DETAIL why you avoided my question about Victor!”  


“I am sorry, Phichit, I don’t mean Detroit. I am going _home_ home. To Hasetsu in Japan.”  


“Whaaaaat? NO NO NO NO you can’t leave me this way! Please, come here first! You are upset now and you can’t make a decision! After that, if you still want to leave I will personally help you pack, buy your tickets and walk you to the airport!”  


“I…can’t. I am sorry.” 

Despite his friend’s protests he shut the phone down and put it into his jeans’ pockets. He sighed and started heading towards the airport with his training bag on one shoulder and resolution in his mind.

The airport was crowded and Yuuri was waiting for his check-in gate to open inside the big hall in order to avoid the freezing cold of the Russian evening. He had eventually had to turn his phone back on and he had already changed his plane tickets, sent an e-mail to the direction of the Detroit Ballet Company to dissolve his contract and avoided at least a dozen calls from Phichit. He was casually scrolling through his Instagram feed to kill some time while his heart stop beating for the second time that day.  


“Yuri, your pirouéttes could use some work, your technique is good but…” That voice. He knew that voice, he followed it in interviews for years. He looked up from his phone to see _the_ Victor Nikiforov in all of his glory, not far from where he sat, carrying a travel bag and walking towards a gate. But why was he calling his name? And talking about his pirouéttes?  


“Yes yes, but I won, didn’t I?” Another voice answered. 

Yuuri stood up to have a better look and saw a young boy next to Victor. It was the person who yelled at him in the changing room previously in the afternoon. They must share the same name. Then he remembered: he was Yuri Plisetsky, junior promise in the Bolshoi Academy, who already had a spot with his name on it in the Company for the next year.  


He was still staring in shock at the pair, frozen, when Victor noticed him and stopped walking. “Hi. Do you want a commemorative photo? Sure!”. He thought Yuuri was a fan of theirs or something. He was nothing to him. Embarrassed and frustrated he turned and walked away in the opposite direction, not caring to look at where his own check-in gate was supposed to be.  


The check-in gate was, obviously, at the other end of the airport, but he still had a few hours before his flight, so he managed to get back, check in, wait and then finally board on his plane. He couldn’t sleep, the void in his heart and stomach he felt after the failure coming back in full force, emboldened by the humiliation of finally meeting his idol and flopping badly in front of him. For a moment he was almost grateful that Victor didn’t recognize him at the airport, but then he drowned in the feeling of nothingness that his words had given him. He was in the final twenty at the audition, the last step before the six chosen and he could have managed to be among them if Victor hadn’t shown up. Despite his insecurities, he knew he was one of Japan’s best dancers and he had achieved a lot of successes since he had become part of the Detroit Ballet Company. Victor must have known his face at least, if not his name. And yet he saw him only as a fan, a no-one. And it hurt more than the failure he was bringing home to his country and his family because for all his life Yuuri had worked hard, trained, breathed and lived only so that one day he could dance on the same stage of Victor and introduce himself to him as an equal. He sighed and resigned to watch some random movies while the lights went out to let the passengers rest for the night.

A few days later Yuuri was still jet-lagged from the sleepless nocturne flight and anxious from the outcome of the audition and the following uncertainty of his future, but he loved being home, with the familiarity of everything from language to food and especially the warmth of his family and friends. He felt bad for his choreographer Celestino and Phichit for abandoning them in such short notice, but, on second thought, they knew he was attempting the audition to the Bolshoi, so they must have grown accustomed to the idea of him leaving in the previous weeks. He had just finished cleaning the garden of his family’s onsen and was going back inside the main room when a figure literally jumped on him, making him fall on his back un-gracefully. 

Shocked by the sight of the ceiling and the strangely familiar weight on top of his body he looked down just to become even more surprised.  


“Phicit-kun! What are you doing here??”  


Phichit raised his eyes from Yuuri’s chest to return his gaze and smiled brightly at him, but didn’t let go, hugging more tightly instead.  


“I missed you soooo much!! I was worried!! You should have come back to Detroit!”  


Recalling his previous thoughts Yuuri laughed.  


“How come every time I think of you, you appear in some way? Last time you called me and now you pop up here, unannounced!”  


Finally, Phichit let go of the hug and his face became more serious.  


“You kept dodging my calls, I noticed how you avoided my questions about what happened in Russia. And you haven’t even talked to Ciao Ciao before quitting with the Company! He was heart-broken! I asked him permission to come here to see you and he instantly agreed! I can skip some training now that I don’t have to compete against you for the spot in the next show!” He winked, smiling for a moment, and his expression softened. “I am your best friend, I want to help you, please don’t shut me out.” He added and Yuuri could sense a little sadness in his voice.  


“I am sorry, Phichit, I really am. It’s just… I freaked out. I didn’t mean to hurt you or Celestino, you have always been good to me.”  


“It’s ok, we understand, but we want to be by your side! Please let’s do something together, if you don’t want to talk to me I don’t mind, but I want to make sure you are ok. Please?” He looked at Yuuri with puppy eyes, flapping his eyelashes and he couldn’t resist. He started laughing and nodded and Phichit jumped at him again, hugging him happily.

“So, where do you want to go?” Asked Phichit while they were heading out of the onsen. He had been soaking in the thermal water for a little to wash away the tiredness from his trip, changed clothes and greeted affectionately Yuuri’s family, while Yuuri was finishing his chores. He was determined to help in order to thank his family for having him back into the house, even if they had insisted it wasn’t necessary.  


“Mm, there’s not much to do around here. We can go ice-skating! Ice Castle is open this evening.” Phichit’s already bright smile widened, if possible, even more. Yuuri took that as a yes, and started walking towards the place. Both Phichit and Yuuri loved ice-skating, it was one of their favorite hobbies back when they lived together in Detroit and it never failed to help them relax after a long day of practice at the Theatre. Neither of them was very proficient in it, but they could do something similar to dancing without having to worry about the technique or the beauty of the performance, they could just have fun.  


At the Ice Castle Yuuko and Takeshi, the friends of Yuuri’s who now owned the place welcomed them, and Yuuri and Phichit rented a pair of skates to go mingle with the small crowd of people already gathered in the rink. A few hours later they were more light-hearted but freezing, so one after the other they gave the skates back and went together to a nearby restaurant to warm up and eat dinner. They keep talking all the time but avoiding completely anything Russia-related or audition-related. Phichit knew best then to push his friend into telling him something, so he decided to wait for the other to open up to him, and Yuuri wasn’t ready to address that topic, yet.  


After dinner and a little walk, the boys decided to head back and went to Yuuri’s room to sleep, an additional bed already prepared for Phichit there. Laying under the covers the Russian-related topic became unavoidable since the room was practically a shrine to a Russian dancer, and Phichit couldn’t shut up about it anymore. In the walls, a multitude of framed photographs and posters with the same pair of blue eyes returned his gaze. He had already seen some of them in Yuuri’s room in their shared apartment in Detroit, and Yuuri talked to him about his collection, but this was the first time Phichit got to look at it from this close. Siegfried, _Le Corsaire_ , Oberon, Tristan, some slices of ordinary life and then again more recent posters of neo-classical ballets and original _piéces_ , the amazing costumes and unmistakable lights of different stages in some of the most important theatres in the World.  


“You really do like Victor, don’t you? Would you tell me what happened?”  


Yuuri considered the words for a moment.  


“It’s…” He was starting to form an excuse, but he stopped. The lights were low, the silence of the town outside of the house gave them a sense of peace, so he shrugged and started talking instead. About the audition, how everything was going well all things considered, and then how he collapsed badly doing a stupid _dégagé_ after seeing his lifelong idol. How they met again at the airport and he didn’t even know he was a dancer like him.  


His friend listened intently, understanding, and stayed silent by his side, without touching him but near and present and Yuuri felt grateful. He started crying, not tears of frustration this time, but in a liberating way, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, not knowing how he had been able to be so lucky to deserve a friend like Phichit.  


After sobbing for a while, he collapsed from the weariness of the weeks, the audition, the anxiety and he fell asleep like he hadn’t done it in years, and it could as well have been true. Phichit looked at him fondly, then turned his gaze to the ceiling, deep in thoughts and a determined smile popped up on his face. He had a plan. He started drawing it up in his mind before following his roommate example soon after, the following morning he had a lot of work to do.

Phichit woke up early. He had arrangements to make and people to talk to. First, he needed to earn the complicity of Yuuri’s family, which turned out to be an easier task that he had believed possible since they were as concerned about their son as Phichit himself was and they trusted him, a thing that moved Phichit so much he almost started crying. That accomplished everything else went smoothly and by the time Yuuri appeared for breakfast, Phichit was prepared and had a list written, in three pages, with a big title and diagrams, and a bag full of disparate items near his spot behind the table.  


The oblivious dancer entered the room yawning. He felt rested and relaxed until he locked eyes with his friend and saw in them a dangerous look.  


“What’s happening? Why are you looking at me like that?”  


Phichit just grinned, got up from the table and opened his list with a solemn gesture in front of himself, then cleared his throat and announced: “Today we are going to start a project. It is called ‘How to make Yuuri Katsuki forget about Victor Nikiforov and start loving to dance again.’ This is not a question and you are not allowed to complain. Your family and I agree.”

Yuuri blinked, staring at his friend in disbelief of what he was hearing. Then turned to look at the other members of his family that were gathered in the kitchen. He felt a little betrayed, but seeing their encouraging smile he understood that they went along with Phichit’s idea because they were worried about him. He had already disappointed them many times and he didn’t want to do that again, so he resigned himself and nodded to his friend. They had breakfast together, Phichit, Yuuri and his family and in that moment he felt so loved that he thought he could face whatever Phichit had come up with for this ‘plan’ of his and that maybe it could even be a good thing. 

It wasn't long before he changed his mind completely.


	2. The King of the Fairies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I like Puck! It’s an important role in the show and it’s funny to perform!” Yuuri blurted out, then added: “And I don’t really see myself as the omni-powerful King of the fairies”.
> 
> “Yeah, I bet you do relate a lot to the carefree and a little mean prankster of the fairies instead,” Phichit replied sarcastically.
> 
> \--
> 
> Phichit's plan begins!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you very much to everyone who left Kudos or commented, I really appreciate it!  
> After posting the first chapter I found myself unable to stop writing this, so I decided to give it a try! I would rather post shorter chapters more frequently, so I will try to post weekly. Feel free to comment and let me know what you think about the story so far!
> 
> A few trivia, in case you are wondering:  
> *Yuuri and Phichit’s Ballet Company is based upon the New York City Ballet, I changed the city to Detroit in order to wink at the original story.  
> **I am not a professional dancer but I have been studying ballet and other kinds of dancing since I was a child, so the majority of the dance-related things in this fic comes from my personal experience or from shows or videos I watched in my life as a ballet-enthusiast. For the ones of you that are not familiar with ballet, the fouettés (the exercise Yuuri fails in the audition in the first chapter) are a very advanced move and, usually, a professional dancer is asked to be able to perform at least 32 fouettés consecutively. The other components I described in that scene are a simple preparation sequence. I will try to avoid being too technical about ballet or similar, and I will try to give references for the parts that can be relevant for the story.  
> For an example of fouettés you can watch this amazing video:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tKMoteGoMaI  
> Or if you are interested in a more technical description I recommend this:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fo250jmBl6I
> 
> More notes about this chapter at the end (will contain spoilers).

Yuri Plisetsky was splayed across the couch, left leg over the edge of the cushion and elbow on the armrest, looking bored. The room was darkened, the only light coming from the television in front of him where a show was displaying. He was pretending to watch it casually, for lack of better options, but a closed look could reveal his intent gaze and his undivided attention, as he was practically not blinking. From the room next to the one he was staying in, for a long time, already, the same song had replayed over and over, when it suddenly stopped and a figure entered the room, a towel across his shoulders to wipe the sweat and exertion clearly visible on his features.

“You are watching Midsummer’s Night’s Dream again, aren’t you?”

Yuri startled at the voice coming from behind him, not expecting the other man to show up so soon, or not realizing how much time had actually passed since he arrived in the apartment.

“There wasn’t anything worth watching and your house is boring” Yuri answered prickly, without averting his gaze from the performance. Victor Nikiforov went to his kitchen counter to take a bottle and drank a generous amount of water directly from it, looking with amusement at the boy on the couch. Yuri had been to America the previous year to watch a performance of the ballet that was now playing, because they were about to start preparing their own version at Bolshoi Theatre and some of the students of the Academy, including him, had been asked to participate as the Chorus of fairies. After the show, he insisted on buying the DVD and he hadn’t stopped watching it ever since that moment, claiming despite everything that he didn’t like it and that the Bolshoi version was way better. Suppressing a smile at his expenses, Victor put the bottle aside and went to join the couch, forcing him to move his legs and shift to a more upright position.

“Ugh, gross, go take a shower!” Yuri spat, turning to face the man this time.

“This is my house and I do whatever I want here,” he answered. Then, in a flash of inspiration, he moved to hug the boy, and at his loud gripes he started laughing.

“Leave me, old man, you stink!!” Yuri yelled, setting himself free and moving away from the couch. He moved towards the door as if to exit the apartment, then he had a second thought, obviously not wanting to go home just yet. In the last few years, he used to come there a lot in order to hide from his parents, because they didn’t appreciate dance as much as he did and demanded that he focused on his other studies instead of practicing or watching ballets all the time. The teen had already decided which path he would want to go through, though, and couldn’t stand their reproaches. After his return to Russia from a week in Monte Carlo where he and other students of the Bolshoi Academy took part in a show, along with some of the older members of the Company, he got into a fight with his father, who had come picking him up from the airport, so he stuffed his travel case in his family’s car and turned around, following the man he had flown with to his home, instead.

The music from the show on the television changed to a familiar one and Victor stopped his laugh and turned suddenly serious.

“Come on, Yuri, your favourite part is next!” he said and gestured to the empty spot near himself on the couch where he was still sitting and Yuri complied, even if murmuring that it was not his favourite part, he didn’t like that show at all and he was only watching it because there was nothing better to do. Victor shook his head but said nothing, a knowing smile on his face.

The silence fell between the two Russians and it was broken only by the light music coming from the television where the video of the ballet was playing. A boy dressed in a costume made entirely of green and brown leaves, with two little horns on his head and big expressive eyes brought out by a subtle make-up, had been left alone in the centre of the stage and the music had changed, signalling the start of his solo _piéce_. The DVD, and that _piéce_ , in particular, had been watched so many times that if they could they would have started to wear out, but Yuri was holding his breath all the same, his attempts to look casual and bored completely forgotten.

Victor had watched the same DVD a couple of times, too, even if not nearly as many as Yuri, but even if he enjoyed that ballet in its whole, every time he did he couldn’t help but focus on the person playing the role of Oberon, because it was the one he himself was playing.  
This time, though, something caught his attention.

“Do I know him?” Victor asked, and Yuri, too wrapped up in the sight to take in the other man’s words, answered with a distracted “Uh?”. 

Victor laughed again, Yuri’s dedication to that particular show was something that never failed to amuse him, so he set the question aside and decided to give the dancer on the screen a better look. He was good, the variation he was doing was a very demanding piece of repertoire, one of Puck’s solos, but what surprised Victor the most were the changes he had made to the original choreography. It wasn’t an unusual thing to do, every dancer is unique and a good choreographer knows what to change to a _piéce_ in order to make him stand out, but the way this particular solo had been modified was very odd. Puck is usually a role played by dancers who rely mostly on technically challenging and high jumps, while in this version the majority of the expected jumps were removed to add amazing sequences of turns and steps and _adagio_ movements. The emotion the boy generated with the movements of his arms and with his gaze was so addictive that you didn’t miss them at all, it was like he created a new kind of music with his body. The few jumps that were included were beautiful, and they were completed with only little imprecisions that a trained eye like theirs could notice, but it felt like they were getting in the way. A part of Victor’s brain was listing the corrections he would make the boy do, but the prevailing part of his mind was enthralled and wished only to keep watching the elegance of the boy’s lines while he posed. The variation ended and Victor was still watching intently at the screen when he felt a punch on his left arm. He turned around to see that Yuri was back to his usual scowling, apparently after the ending of the performance he managed to reinstate his fake bored appearance.

“I am starving, give me something to eat instead of watching that stupid show you love so much.”

Victor could see behind his junior’s defensive look and wasn’t fooled by his pretended disinterest, so instead of complying, he asked again: “Who is he? Why do I feel like I know him? I know it’s not just from the DVD.”

“You probably met him at the audition last week.” Yuri said and shrugged. “Then we stumbled upon him at the airport while we were leaving for Monte Carlo and you messed him up when you didn’t recognize him as a fellow dancer.”

“I- what?”

“Yeah, whatever, who cares, he sucks, but he looked really disappointed. He probably looks up to you like everyone else or something. Not that I care.”

Victor was shocked by the revelation, he recalled wondering after the episode in the airport why the boy had looked so upset, but then he focused on the upcoming show and forgot about it. If he was one of the soloists of the Detroit Ballet Company, like the DVD they were watching implied, they must have met in several competitions and shows over the years, no wonder he was disappointed. Plus if he attempted the audition to Bolshoi…

“Wait, I remember him! It’s the boy who fell during the preparation for the _fouettés_ exercise!”

Yuri looked at him in disbelief, with anger in his eyes, then he bit back the speech he was probably about to give in defense of the dancer, muttering something that Victor couldn’t quite catch so as to keep his detached appearance, then a little louder he said:

“As I told you, he sucks. No wonder. Can we eat now?”

Victor knew better than to call out on Yuri’s lies about his interest in the other dancer but, on the other hand, he was curious and wanted to learn more. In the end, he decided to set aside his curiosity for the moment and try to find the informations he wanted in another way before confronting Yuri again and replied:

“Ok. But only if you call your parents and let them know you are staying here.”

Yuri scowled again but moved to reach for his phone nonetheless, as Victor scrolled through his own trying to decide what to order for their dinner. Both tasks finished they moved to get the table ready and sat, waiting in silence. Yuri was still debating over Victor’s words, not believing that the American dancer could have missed the _fouettés_ and wondering what to think about that information.

When the food arrived they were still silent, Victor not wanting to earn another angry glare from his temporary roommate, so he waited for Yuri to break the silence:

“What were you practicing earlier? It didn’t sound like classical music at all.”

Victor’s face lit up at the words and winked at him, replying:

“It’s a surprise, you’ll see.”

Yuri was very aware of his obsession with surprises, so he did not inquire further. No matter how hard someone might try, Victor would tell about it _only_ when he intended for the surprise to be revealed in the first place, and not a moment prior. He decided to change the topic, starting a normal conversation by recalling their week in Monte Carlo and the show they took part in. 

After dinner, despite his complaints, Victor took Yuri home to his worried parents. He liked Yuri’s company sometimes, but dealing with a teenager all day was difficult and he already had to spend a lot of time with him when they were travelling for shows or competitions, as Yuri was often participating in order to ease the path for his admission to the Ballet Company the following year, and he was asked to attend, being a prominent figure for the Academy.

Getting back to his apartment alone, Victor kept thinking about the boy he had seen play Puck in Yuri’s DVD, trying to reconcile that image with the one he had of him flubbing the _fouettés_ at the audition.

 

Phichit was standing in Yuuri’s room, still holding his list with a solemn gesture and grinning.

“Ok, let’s get started! Number one: clean your chakra.”

Yuuri gave him a puzzled look, looking up at him from the bed, where he was sitting cross-legged and answered with an unsure “Ok?”.

“Look, I slept in this room yesterday and I swear it’s been suffocating. I think that if I ever watch a Victor Nikiforov again I am going to throw up! I understand that you admire him and everything, but this” - he pointed to the walls around them - “is NOT healthy. At all. And your place in Detroit is not any better! You spent all your life surrounded by his image, no wonder you can’t bear to stand in front of his real, actual persona! You idolized him too much and you are crossing the border of obsession. You need to free yourself from this idea of him and acknowledge that he is just a human being like the two of us if you want to stop panicking in his proximity. The first step is living in a less claustrophobic environment, where you don’t have the image of his eyes staring at you all the time.”

Yuuri barely heard the rest of the speech, he understood what his friend was saying and he was horrified: Phichit wanted to throw away his precious collection!

“Phichit, some of these costs more than our house! They are unique and I spent a lot of time collecting them!”

“Don’t worry, I am not saying you have to trash them, just put them someplace where you aren’t constantly surrounded by them! I will allow you to keep two of them on the walls, you can choose which. As for the others...” - He moved to the bag he was carrying, that had been momentarily put aside, and pulled out a series of albums, page markers, stickers and pens. Yuuri was still petrified, looking at his precious posters with a mournful look, trying to figure out which ones to take off.

“Can I keep five of them?” he begged.

“I said two and that you cannot complain.”

Yuuri was almost crying by then and Phichit melted a little, but he tried to stand his ground: he was doing this for his best.

“Please? At least three, Phichit-kun!”

“Ok, three it is”, the latter replied with a sigh and using one of the markers he had gathered, he updated his list. He really needed to improve his ability to resist him if he wanted to go on with the plan.

Phichit motioned to the items and said: “You will choose _three_ posters to keep on the walls and you will put the others in those albums. I brought post-its, stickers and markers so that you can personalize the pages and know easily which of the envelopes contains which poster in case you want to find any of them. If you want, I will help you.” He smiled and the look on his face was soft and understanding. Yuuri was still a little shattered, but nodded slightly and started heading to the first of the walls. Phichit stayed behind, not wanting to intrude nor to leave his friend alone. It was a simple gesture but, Phichit hoped, it could be a physical reminder to underline a defining moment, the start of his friend’s healing. He had to try his best not to chuckle at the scene, when he saw Yuuri unsticking the first of the posters with a reverence worthy of a sacred object, slowly and carefully so as not to ruin it in the slightest. He was completely hopeless, Phichit thought affectionately, maybe this task was really more difficult than expected. Scanning the list again, he wondered if he hadn’t been too mean, but he cast the worry away immediately: his friend needed a new perspective and a clean break was necessary. He waited patiently until all the posters were stacked up on the bed next to the items he had bought that morning with Yuuri’s sister’s help. Yuuri had an indecipherable look on his face, a mix of conflicting emotions glimpsing through his eyes.

“Phichit-kun?” he asked, voice cracked.

“Yes?”

“Would you like to help me create the albums?” 

His gaze was now fixed to the pile he had just created, but a little smile was creeping through his lips. Phichit was astonished by the request, he could see how much the action of emptying his walls had affected his friend, and the knowledge that he wanted to share that moment with him touched him deeply. Yuuri’s smile made his worries from the previous moment fade away, if his plan was showing a positive effect, that was everything he could have asked for.

“Yes, of course,” he said and walked up to his friend to address the task. They sat together on the other side of the bed, the first of the albums in front of them and started to fold the pieces of paper and enveloping them in the pages, then extracted the photographs from the frames and put them together with the posters. Every now and then Yuuri would make a comment about one of the images or add a sticker or a note, marking the page. They spent like that the following two hours, recalling the memories connected to the various pictures and filling the albums. At the end, they admired their work proudly. The books were beautiful, full of notes, the care and devotion with which they had been made visible through every little detail. Yuuri was smiling openly now.

“Thank you, Phichit-kun, it was nice.”

“I am glad. Thank you for wanting me to help, I know how much this meant for you.”

They put the albums on a shelf near the desk and turned to the almost empty walls. Only two posters were left and one of the framed pictures, cut from a newspaper. The photograph was probably very recent, it portrayed a smiling Victor with his dog, with a white shirt and casual trousers, in a rare slice of ordinary life. The posters, on the contrary, were very different. The first one showed a young Victor posing in the middle of a stage, probably St. Petersburg's Theatre, judging by the look of the decorations. His hair was long and tied up in a bun in the back of his head and he was dressed as Fritz Stahlbaum, from The Nutcracker, his little red and white jacket enhancing the deep blue of his eyes and the mirth in his gaze, lips curved in a proud smile. It was from his first official performance. He was still too young to be part of the Company, but he had been chosen for that role nonetheless. He was stunning even in his childlike form. The second one pictured an older version of him, although less so than the one in the newspaper next to it and the atmosphere was completely different, too. It was probably from a commercial shooting because the background was neither a stage, nor an ordinary life location, but a wood, with trees and leaves in different shades of green, the sky barely visible among the branches. The man in the picture was serious, looking intensely at something out of sight, nothing like the light happiness of The Nutcracker, but beautiful all the same, with blue and green makeup on his eyes that concurred to make him look determined and strong like a King, but also unattainable, almost otherworldly. His dress was similarly enthralling: a skin-tight suit coloured in blue and the same different shades of green visible in the background playing across it, along with leaf shaped decorations and a cascade of glitters and crystals that started on his chest and continued over his shoulders, all along the two small wings attached on his back and the long cape in the same blue and green cloth starting from their base. The appearance was perfected by a small golden crown resting on the top of his head and by his silver hair perfectly combed on the side, that in the dark background stood out making him look all the more ethereal. 

Phichit found himself staring at the image, lost in the moment and almost unable to breathe as he said:

“I think I’m starting to have some clues on why you chose to audition for Puck even if everyone wanted you to play Oberon...”.

Yuuri, too, was still daydreaming, spellbound by the sight of his bare walls and he found himself nodding, knowing exactly what his friend was looking at. 

“So you do admit it!” Phichit exclaimed, unsurprised by the revelation but in disbelief all the same because he never thought that one day he would finally be able to hear that confession.

Yuuri startled, realizing what had happened.

“I-I...”

“I knew it!” continued Phichit, teasing, and Yuuri’s face turned a deep shade of red that matched vividly the color of Victor’s jacket from the Nutcracker in the picture right behind him.

“I like Puck! It’s an important role in the show and it’s funny to perform!” he blurted out, then added: “And I don’t really see myself as the omni-powerful King of the fairies”.

“Yeah, I bet you _do_ relate a lot to the _carefree_ and a little mean prankster of the fairies instead.” Phichit replied sarcastically. “You know poor Ciao Ciao had to practically reinvent Puck variation with Oberon because the original it’s almost only composed of jumps?”

“I told him he didn’t need to, he could just choose someone else if he didn’t like my performance.”

“It wasn’t because he didn’t like your performance! It was because it didn’t suit you! You stand out the most when you do _adagio_ combinations, that let you express with your long lines and the elegance and precision of your movements! People don’t want to see you do a million consecutive jumps, they would rather watch you do one singular stupid _arabesque_!”. A second too late, Phichit realized his wrong choice of words as Yuuri’s face paled.

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

“No, no, it’s ok, it’s just… I know. It’s ok.” Yuuri said, interrupting him and trying to recompose himself, then he looked at Phichit and asked: “What’s next on the list?”

The meaning of the abrupt change in topic was clear and Phichit didn’t want to further ruin the moment, so he put on his brightest smile and glanced back.

“Why don’t we go soak a little in the onsen before?”

Yuuri released a breath he hadn’t realized to be holding and smiled back.

“Yes, totally!”

 

After a much-needed rest, the intensity of the morning and the momentary upset were fading away, making space to the positive emotions that indeed the cleaning of his bedroom walls had brought. Yuuri felt again determined to give the plan a try, just to be, once again, contradicted when Phichit announced: “Off to our second task! We are going to - drumroll - SOCIALIZE!”.

“No, please, everything but that! I always feel terrible when I am around people!” he replied hopelessly.

“ _I_ am a person, and you are not terrible around me! Plus, I didn’t mean necessarily socialize with others”, his smile was more open this time and he continued: “You can socialize with me, for now. We are going shopping! Just, perhaps not in Hasetsu? Any ideas?”. Yuuri’s relief was evident, he was already expecting Phichit to suggest a college party like he used to do when they were living in Detroit. He had always been able to convince him otherwise then, but now Phichit seemed so determined in pursuing his plan that he didn’t think he could avoid it, if _that_ had been written on the list. Yuuri shivered and not for the first nor the last time he wished he could take a peek at Phichit’s papers, which he jealously kept on himself.

“Are we looking for anything in particular?” he asked, trying to figure out where to go. If his friend wanted a crazy afternoon of shopping, Hasetsu wasn’t indeed the right place, but it was almost noon already, so a too far away place wasn’t an option, either.

Phichit fumbled a little with the list and then showed it to Yuuri with a mischievous smile, the front page folded accurately so that nothing but a table was visible. It was _long_ , the first column covered in post-its of different colors, the second filled with a detailed list of items, written in Phichit’s familiar handwriting, and the third was empty, probably for the purpose of checking the rows as they found the required objects. Under the table, there was a singular line: 

2.1 During the day take a selfie and post it on a social media of your choice.

Yuuri couldn’t suppress a resigned smile. It was better than the college party, but this was another of those things he had always managed to avoid by the skin of his teeth back in Detroit, and it was hardly surprising that it was included.

He decided not to read thoroughly and simply accept his fate, it looked exactly like a crazy afternoon of shopping, even without the details of the embarrassing things that he was sure his friend had entered in the rows of the table.

“Ok, I know a place where we can go.” he offered.

They went back to the room they were temporary sharing to change into more suitable clothes for an afternoon in the city and pack a few things in order to leave for the rest of the day, then said goodbye to Yuuri’s family and headed to the train station, ready to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * ”A Midsummer Night’s Dream“ is a traditional ballet, inspired by Shakespeare’s play of the same name, you can find the synopsis here: http://www.bolshoi.ru/en/performances/437/libretto/  
> Its first ever performance has been by the New York City Ballet, so I figured it fitted, plus there were those adorable official arts featuring young Victor, Yuuri and Yuri as fairies that made my imagination fly! And of course, Victor would totally perform as Oberon so, since it's my headcanon for this AU that Yuuri wants to share the stage with him, not in his place, he would try to obtain complementary roles from the one he knows Victor is going to play, no matter what.  
> You can find videos of the complete ballet on Youtube, if you are interested, it’s very good, but it’s quite long, so it can be difficult to follow if you have never seen a ballet. If you want a glimpse of Puck variation, the one I mention in the story, you can find it in this extract, starting from minute 1.17, Oberon enters at 2:55:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cwoUTykmmJM&t=228s  
> And this for the Puck and Oberon dance from the beginning to 1.24:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tV1LqMp1h9A  
> 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! See you next week!


	3. Straight Outta Hasetsu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " There were, indeed, two different lines for ‘something sexy’ and ‘something hot’, but his eyes caught another one that made him shiver for a very different reason.
> 
> “What does ‘Straight Outta Detroit style (do your worst)’ mean?? You don’t really want us to buy hip-hop clothes, do you?? We are ballet dancers!" he said, turning to Phichit, then again to the papers to keep reading, just to resume whining shortly after:  
> "And seriously ‘masquerade’?? What is even there on your list after the shopping??" "
> 
> \--  
> Where things start to get interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week's chapter is going to be a little longer, but there were two scenes that I wanted to write together and I needed a little building to do before I got there!  
> If there are some topics you are uncomfortable with, please remember to check the tags.  
> As always, hope you enjoy. Feel free to comment, I'd really love to know what you think!" <3

Saga was the capital of the prefecture were Yuuri’s family house was located. It was a bigger and livelier city than Hasetsu and the train ride to get there was just over an hour long. The train ride had been comfortable, Phichit and Yuuri had almost an entire compartment for themselves, being a weekday in the early afternoon, but the city was more crowded. The station was inside a modern building and here and there they found advertisement posters for their company’s show “Midsummer Night’s Dream”. It had been a big production and they were still performing it worldwide, even if the première had been the previous year in Detroit. The posters weren’t everywhere like in Hasetsu, where they covered almost every wall, but they could find a huge number of them all the same. Since most of them featured Yuuri in his Puck costume, Phichit created a scavenger hunt to try and find different characters. When he finally spotted a picture of himself he was delighted and, of course, he needed to take a selfie in front of it, while Yuuri hid behind his surgical mask so as not to be recognized by anyone.

They mixed with the crowd flowing out of the station and into one of the main streets of the city, looking for someplace to eat before beginning officially their quest.

“First, we need to find a fancy clothes shop” started Phichit, eyes narrowed in concentration, looking around.

“I still think your table is too big. I already have clothes and I don’t need more, I don’t know what you thought up, but do we really need to spend all those money on things we don’t need?” Yuuri whined in response.

“The correct phrase is ‘things we don’t need, _yet_ ’, but we will, eventually! I called Ciao Ciao, he agreed we both take a month off and if you’ll still want to quit with the Company after that, he will accept it and I will go back alone. Otherwise, we can still be there in time to be ready for the auditions for _La Bayadère_ in October. And maybe even for the Company’s Gala for the end of summer. For now, we have a lot of things to do!”

There was no point in arguing, more so because Phichit had so many accomplices in his plan, so Yuuri just sighed:

“Why is everyone in my life joining forces against me?”

“We are not against you, Yuuri! Come on!” answered Phichit, tugging lightly at his friend’s sleeve to make him keep walking until he found exactly what he was looking for.

“This is perfect. I know that brand, it’s not expensive, so you can’t complain about wasting money, but it’s nice.”

Yuuri let himself be carried into the shop and a few minutes later he was covered in clothes to try on, while Phichit kept bringing him more.

“I am NOT wearing that, you can put it away immediately.” Yuuri snapped, voice a little muffled by the fabric of the latest item in the pile he was holding, that now reached above his chin. 

“But it’s sooo cute! You would be amazing in it!” Phichit cooed, holding a particularly tight shirt, with a number of buttons that was definitely too low.

“No, I wouldn’t!”

“Think of it as a costume for a performance! You wore much more revealing outfits! Think about Puck, for instance.”

“Yes, but when you perform you are on a stage, where the closest people are at least 40 inches away!”

“That’s not completely true, do you remember that time when we did the promo exhibition for Christmas and we were in the middle of the dining hall, struggling not to bump into anyone?”

Yuuri blushed at the memory.

“Yeah… That was so embarrassing, I thought I was going to die! Not an experience that I have the desire to repeat.”

“What about after the premiére of Midsummer? You were so excited when you found out that the students of the Bolshoi Academy had come to see us that you forgot to finish changing clothes and you went to the celebratory banquet with your trousers and the shirt made of leaves you wore for the performance! You weren’t even dancing, there!”

“That was a mistake, and I wasn’t excited, I was terrified!!”

“Yeah, terrified _and_ excited. I know you hoped that _he_ would be watching.”

“Um… Well, he wasn’t there, so there’s no point in discussing what I would or wouldn’t have liked.” Yuuri cut out and, to avoid more humiliating stories, he took the shirt Phichit was still holding and added it to the pile, hiding the even deeper red on his face behind it. Phichit failed not to show his triumphant smile.

By the time they exited the shop they had bought three complete outfits for Yuuri and one for Phichit that for some reason matched one of the others and Phichit had checked two of the rows in the table.

“We still need to find you something _hot_ to wear before we change the style completely!” said Phichit with a smirk. Yuuri looked at him in disbelief:

“You already made me buy _that_ shirt!! Wasn’t it ‘hot’ enough?” - just saying the word made his face flushed.

“That was ‘something sexy’, not ‘something hot’ and as you can see, both were included!”

He showed the list again, still accurately folded to make only the table visible, and this time Yuuri decided to take a closer look. There were, indeed, two different lines for ‘something sexy’ and ‘something hot’, but his eyes caught another one that made him shiver for a very different reason.

“What does ‘Straight Outta Detroit style (do your worst)’ mean?? You don’t really want us to buy hip-hop clothes, do you?? We are ballet dancers, the most ‘urban’ thing we have ever done has been the flash-mob for World Ballet Day three years ago, and even then we just wore our company’s branded t-shirts! I have never seen you dressed in anything that wasn’t comfortable or elegant, depending on the occasion. We won’t even know where to start!” he said, turning to Phichit, then again to the papers to keep reading, just to resume whining shortly after:

“Seriously ‘masquerade’?? What is even there on your list after the shopping?? Can’t we just, I don’t know, eat tons of terrible food and ice-creams? Or get drunk maybe? Like normal people do when they are upset?”

Phichit looked pointedly at him and replied:

“I told you that you cannot complain! Come ooon! I promise it’s going to be fun!! And nothing too embarrassing either, I swear it on my hamsters!”

Yuuri huffed, but his hamsters were the thing Phichit treasured most in the world, therefore if he was mentioning them, it meant he was serious in his promise. He pouted, but gave the list back to his owner and resumed walking towards the next shop.

At the end of the day, they had at least a dozen different outfits, two pair of shoes and some accessories and they were exhausted. They found a restaurant that seemed cozy and nice from the outside and entered quickly, collapsing behind a table as soon as the waiter prepared it for them.

“I think I hate you, Phichit-kun!” said Yuuri, barely able to raise his head to look at his friend, that was sitting next to him glowing despite the tiredness.

“No, you don’t. You know it! And this was only a preparatory step!”

“I still think there must have been an easier way than going through all this to convince you that I am serious about my decision to leave the Company!”

“I will let you abandon us only after my list is completed. Speaking of which, you failed your task for today, so you will now have to do a penalty game.”

“What??”

“Yes, point 2.1. Shopping day is over and you didn’t post your required selfie.”

“But you posted thousands of them!”

“Key-word being _I_. So, for your penalty game, you are going to post something now and you are going to start following ‘v_nikiforov’”.

Yuuri blinked a couple of times.

“Uh? I-I thought your entire point was to make me NOT think about him, how is following him on social networks helping me in this?”

“My point is to make you put him off of the pedestal you are keeping him on. Everything that can make you see him more like an actual person will help you in this. If you refuse this penalty game, the next one is going to be even worse, I am warning you.”

Paling, Yuuri took his phone and opened Instagram. He scrolled through his feed, seeing all of Phichit’s selfies from their shopping, then clicked on the camera and signaled his friend to come closer. He took the picture and posted it, hashtagging ‘shoppingday’, ‘friendship’ and ‘someonehelpmeplease’, at which Phichit rolled his eyes, chuckling.

“Now, on to the second task,” Phichit said, pointing purposefully at the search bar on the screen.

They just needed to write a ‘v’ for the autocompletion to understand exactly what they were looking for. Phichit gave his friend a judging look but said nothing, and Yuuri hovered his thumb over the ‘Follow’ button for a while, then took a deep breath, swallowed, and clicked. They were so caught up in their task that they didn’t notice the waiter approaching and when he politely asked in Japanese if they wanted to order, they both winced. Getting back to the real world, Yuuri put his phone away and answered in the same language.

The food arrived quickly and after dinner, they gathered all of their bags to get ready to begin the journey back home. Reaching for his phone, that had been forgotten on the table, Yuuri caught a glimpse of the notifications from people that had liked his photo. Since he rarely posted anything, when he finally did people were always supportive, probably trying to encourage him, but among them, two made him froze in place:

v_nikiforov is now following you  
v_nikiforov liked your post

Flickering he turned to Phichit with an unreadable expression and his friend asked is a worried voice:

“What is it? What happened?”

“V-Victor is following me and liked our photo” he replied.

Phichit run to check his friend’s phone, then turned at him:

“That’s... good?”

“Why would he do that? He doesn’t know me, he didn’t recognize me in Moscow, so why should he know who I am now?”

“Maybe he remembered, or maybe he simply looked at your picture and saw how cute you are!”

“Don’t make fun of me, please, Phichit-kun.”

“I am not making fun of you, you really are cute! And if he opened your profile, he must have read ‘Detroit Ballet’ and realized you are a dancer like him.” Phichit offered, smiling.

Yuuri was still unsure about what to think, struggling between the hope that Victor had actually recognized him and all the negative emotions he was carrying since the day of the audition, then understanding hit him:

“Of course, why haven’t I thought about it in the first place, that’s the most likely explanation. He must be one of those people that use likes for getting likes back, now I have to like one of his posts, and immediately after he will probably unfollow me.”

“I don’t think he would need a ploy like that to obtain followers or likes,” Phichit answered, unpersuaded, but Yuuri had already made up his made and was unyielding. He liked the latest of Victor’s posts to pay what he thought was due and put the phone back in his pocket, then he moved to leave the restaurant and motioned for Phichit to follow.

 

That night Yuuri couldn’t sleep, there wasn’t any particular reason, he knew it had nothing to do with the posters, nor the shopping, nor the Instagram incident for that mattered, he just couldn’t. He decided to go get some water, trying his best not to wake Phichit, who was sleeping next to him. 

He had barely entered the kitchen when his hands started to shake, slightly at first, but increasingly fast. He tried to breathe, but the air didn’t seem to reach his lungs. Panting he curled up on himself with tears starting to blur his vision, making him unable to see what was happening around him. He could feel the tips of his fingers and toes going numb and tingling, his head hurting and his heart tightening in his chest. He must have cried louder than he thought because he distantly felt someone approaching.

“I-I c-can’t brea-breathe” he managed to say, between hiccups. He didn’t want the person, whoever it was, to come near, so he moved to withdraw from the incoming steps.

“S-stay a-away!” he wanted to yell, but his voice was broken.

They would have asked him what happened and he couldn’t explain it because nothing happened, it never did. It was just how his mind worked, sometimes, without warning, it made him unable to breathe, without any conscious event or thought that triggered it. The numbness in his toes was now spreading out and as it reached his legs he felt himself falling to the ground, face shrunk from the tears and hands as cold as stone.

“Yuuri!! Yuuri, please!!” he heard the distant voice call, it sounded like it was coming from underwater. He tried to focus on it, but his head was spinning too much and he felt dizzy just for the effort. The hiccups got worse and his stomach started to ache, too, making him feel queasy.

More steps were nearing, now, and something steady and warm reached for his hand.

“Breathe with me, Yuuri”. 

The voice was as firm as the grip on his hand and it wasn’t asking questions, so he tried to follow the person’s slow breathing. Gradually, the air reached his lungs again and the buzz in his ears lowered. Recognizing the voices around him, he could hear Phichit cry, removed from where he was collapsed on the ground, and his sister beside him, holding his hand and calling his name. His breathing was still labored, but it was normalizing.

“I am sorry, Yuuri, I am sorry, I don’t know what to do!” Phichit said, but his sister hushed him, then turned to Yuuri again with a calm and warm voice:

“Yuuri, focus on my words, keep breathing slowly. Good, like that. Now open your hands”. 

He hadn’t realized he was clasping his hands to stop them from shaking. He tried to move his fingers to relax them and finally, his vision came clear again, even if the tears were still flowing.

“M-Mari i-it hurts!” he murmured, not knowing what he was referring to exactly. Everything hurt, head spinning, chest tightened, arms and legs contracted, and he was shaking, sobbing, barely able to see what was going on around him.

“I know, Yuuri, I know, just keep breathing, I promise it will be better soon if you breathe.”

He did as he was told, his sister’s voice reaching him and giving him a sense of calm.

They stayed like that for a while and when he managed to get up, he let Mari help him go back to his room. He was still shaken and dizzy, so he kept holding her hand like he had done a thousand times when he was younger and scared for some reason. He looked at her with gratitude and she looked back, smiling at him softly because there had never been the need for words between them. She could see that the worst was over and that his little brother was thankful for her help, and he knew that she had helped him gladly and that he didn’t need to worry about her. Mari nodded and exited the room quietly, wishing them a good night.

Yuuri was exhausted, but reality caught up with him and he felt incredibly sorry for his worried friend. He had always managed to hide that part of him to Phichit when they were living in Detroit, and now he had to discover about it here, after traveling halfway around the world just to help him. Phichit knew that he suffered from anxiety, of course, but he had never witnessed one of his panic attacks and Yuuri knew it must have been difficult to him, not understanding what was going on or what to do to help.

“I am sorry, Phichit”, he said in the darkness of the room, voice low but steadier. Phichit moved to approach him, but then he stopped, remembering how Yuuri got away when he had done that before.

“I was so scared, Yuuri, I didn’t know what to do! Is it my fault? Did I push you too much? We don’t have to continue to follow my stupid plan! I am sorry, I thought I was helping, I am so sorry! I will burn down the list!”

“No, no Phichit, this has nothing to do with you, or your plan, or anything, it’s just... I’m still disappointed with myself because of my failure at the audition and stressed about not knowing what to do with my life from now on and a lot of other things, it’s... my mind works too fast sometimes, there’s not a conscious reason and it’s something I cannot control. It could have happened any day, it has nothing to do with today, I promise. I appreciate a lot that you are trying to help me, even if you don’t have to. I am still worried about what you came up with and I still think there must have been an easier way, but I appreciate it, I can see that you mean well.”

A feeble smile was creeping on his lips and Phichit relaxed a little and moved to sit next to him on the bed.

“You mean this happened before?”

Yuuri nodded, and Phichit’s concern increased, as a thought occurred to him:

“Even when we were in Detroit?”

“Sometimes, yes, but today has been the worst. Luckily, I had always been able to get out of it by myself, without involving you or Celestino or anyone else.”

“You should have told us! You don’t have to do this alone! Tell me what to do if it happens again, in case Mari isn’t around, please!”

“I don’t want you to worry, Phichit-kun, there is really no need.”

“But I want to be prepared! It’s not only for you, you probably didn’t see me, but when I went looking for you before and I found you like that, I freaked out pretty badly! I tried to approach you and you moved away, so I knocked on every door until Mari came out! I was so scared!”

“I am sorry, I really am. I didn't want you to see any of that.”

“No, Yuuri. I am sorry for not being able to help you, you don't have to be. I care about you, a lot, and Celestino too, if you had told us from the beginning, we could have tried to help you! You don’t have to go through this alone.”

“I never told you because I didn’t want to make you feel like you owed me anything, I didn’t want to be a burden.”

“You can never be a burden, Yuuri, you are my best friend! I love you, and Ciao Ciao does too, even if not as much as I do! If you talk to people that love you about something that troubles you, you are not imposing, you are making them able to help you in case of need and keep them from inadvertently hurting you more! Please, Yuuri, it’s too late now for Detroit, but let me help you from now on.”

Yuuri considered it for a while, then conceded:

“Fine, if it is for making you feel better, I will explain what I know. Just… Can we do that tomorrow? Now I’d rather sleep it off, I am really exhausted.”

Phichit exhaled deeply in relief and nodded. Tiredness was rapidly catching up with him, too, and only a couple of minutes later they were both fast asleep.

 

It was mid-afternoon in Moscow when Victor saw the notification. He was taking a break from rehearsal and he noticed it by chance because among the hundreds of others he had received, that name sounded strangely familiar.

katsukiyuri is now following you

He opened the profile to see the picture and reading ‘Detroit Ballet’ he smiled to himself, he had been thinking about him just the previous evening, what were the chances! Without thinking too much about it, he followed him back and liked his photo, for good measure. If the American dancer wanted to establish a contact, he was willing to do his part.

“Victor, can I speak with you?” said a gruff voice in Russian, one it was better not to question.

“Sure, Yakov” he replied and moved to follow the man into the Theatre’s Director office.

“I am certain that you are aware of the upcoming Dance Week in Tokyo.” said the Director, when they entered the room.

“Sure!” Victor answered again, a bright smile on his face to hide the fact that, actually, he had no idea. Yakov raised a brow at him, but Victor didn’t falter, so he continued:

“Well, you know it now. Anyway, your friend Georgi was supposed to attend on behalf of the Academy, but apparently, his girlfriend dumped him and he claimed a sick leave. I insisted that he was being dramatic and that he should think better about his duties with regard to us, but he didn’t listen to me. So it’s up to you, you will leave in two weeks, Lilia already knows.”

Victor tried to counter:

“But I have to prepare my audition for Sleeping Beauty!”

“Victor, I know that you don’t like it when people tell you this, but, that part is already yours, you can practice the choreography for the audition in your free time whenever you want, but we need someone to represent us there the most.”

Victor sighed, for the reason they were sending him more than for the fact that he had to go, the Dance Week in itself could be fun.

“Fine, I’ll go. What do I have to do? Is someone else coming?”

“A couple of pupils are attending the classes, so you can travel with them if you want to, and you can use your free time there as you want. This is the event’s program and this is your schedule.” 

Yakov handed him two packages. One of them contained his pass for the event, his train and plane tickets and a packed schedule; the other was a general pamphlet of the event, that he put aside for later.

“Ok.”

“Good, I’ll leave the rest to you, then.” replied the Director and Victor moved to exit the room and go back to his practice.

In the evening he walked home, lost in thought. In the last few years, he had obtained every role he could have wanted without even trying and won every contest he took part in and it felt like there was something missing, he was losing his inspiration. He entered his apartment and curled up on his couch, lazily flicking through the pamphlet Yakov had given him. A name on the second page caught his attention and he quickly reached for his phone, hoping that the receiver of his call was in a place where it wasn’t late at night. At the third ringing a voice answered in perfect English and Victor smiled, it was good to hear from his friend:

“The one and only Victor Nikiforov, what an honor! It’s been a while! How have you been?”

“Hello, Chris! I’m fine, thanks, what about you?”

“Busy as always! I don’t miss Ballet at all, when will you find out that you belong to my company, instead?”

The man’s tone was low and charming and Victor could practically feel him winking. It was a long-running joke between them and he laughed, fondly. Even if Chris was famous now, that hadn’t changed him at all. He was a Swiss dancer that, like Victor, had started with ballet and over the years, meeting each other in competitions all around the World, they had grown up to be friends. Unlike him, though, Chris never committed to a singular Theatre or Academy. He did auditions in several places, always studying different methods and styles until he realized that the problem was ballet itself. He then dropped everything else and started his own company of contemporary dance, the Chrisxx Dance Studio. He created his own peculiar style, renowned for the sensuality of the movements and people from all around the World wanted to study with him, so that a recommendation from Chrisxx was now worth as much as a graduation at Bolshoi, even if in different branches.

Victor pretended to struggle with indecision, going along with the teasing:

“I don’t know, Chris, it’s such a radical shift, what if people don’t like me being sensual?”

“Vee, dear, you could be sensual by standing still in the middle of a room. But I am resigned to my fate, I know you will never return my feelings for you!”

“Oh, no Chris, it’s not you, it’s me! Your style is amazing, but it doesn’t really suit me!”

Even if the tone was far from serious, they both knew that part of it, at least, was true. Chris sighed dramatically, then joined his friend in his laugh.

“I know, I know. So tell me, why did you call me?”

“I have to go to the International Dance Week in Tokyo to represent the Bolshoi and I saw you are going to be there, too, as a guest teacher! Congratulations! This is amazing!”

“Thank you! Yeah, I am looking forward to it, it’s the first time they invite me.”

“If you have some free time while we are there, we could catch up, go have some drinks together!”

“Sure, I can always find some free time for you! Maybe I’ll convince you to come to my lesson, too. I promise I won’t ask you to join in the company outside of our joking, but maybe you could have fun!”

“We’ll see! I’ll call you when I land in Tokyo, then! Good luck for now, bye.”

Chris greeted him back and hung up.

‘Yes, it is going to be fun’, thought Victor and turned to his phone to make some arrangements for his departure.

 

“I can’t believe you convinced me to buy these!” said Yuuri desperate, blushing to the roots of his hair at his reflection in the mirror. He was wearing loose-fitting black pants, a white long tank top and a wide grey and blue t-shirt on top of it that fell slightly down one of his shoulders, with the icing on the cake being a black hat with written in white capital letter ‘Straight outta Detroit’.

Phichit looked at him, beaming. He was similarly dressed, Hammer jeans with big pockets and a black t-shirt with golden inserts, more than a few sizes larger than necessary.

“We are going to have so much fun, Yuuri, I can’t wait!”

It was late morning. As soon as they awoke, as promised, Yuuri told his friend everything he knew from experience about his panic attacks and how to eventually deal with them. Then, they decided to move on to the third point in Phichit’s list, to get distracted from the disastrous events of the previous evening.

“Can’t you be the one who wears the hat?” pleaded Yuuri.

“No, way, I am just your plus one, you have to keep it!”

“But you are having more fun than I am, aren’t you? Don’t even try to deny it!”

“Yes, I totally am. But you are enjoying yourself, too, even if you don’t want to admit it!”

Yuuri couldn’t suppress a smile at that, it was probably true, and he asked:

“What are we going to do, now?”

“We are taking a selfie, then we are going to study.”

“Only if you promise not to post it.”

Phichit dejectedly agreed, and Yuuri continued: 

“Why do we have to wear these to study?”

A flash of inspiration crossed Phichit’s eyes, the question had, apparently, given him a perfect opportunity for something. He hurried to take two small packages from the ominous bag where he kept the photo albums for the posters and who knows what other things, that had been left in the room, and passed one of them to Yuuri, announcing:

“Because we are studying to prepare ourselves to go here.”

Yuuri took the item and opened it carefully, to see a ticket and a timetable.

“Tokyo Dance Week?” he read, voice tentative, then more excitedly:

“It’s the open pass for the Tokyo Dance Week!!”

Despite everything, his eyes were sparkling. He gazed at Phichit, who was equally unable to contain his emotion, both for the event and for his friend’s evident happiness, as he confirmed:

“Yes, we are going to the Tokyo Dance Week!”

“Thank you, Phichit-kun, this is the best present ever!”

“We deserved it!” said Phichit, then he gave his friend a look:

“By the way, I knew it! You just proved you still love dancing!”

Guiltily, Yuuri lowered his eyes.

“Of course I do, but...” as he replied, Phichit could see that anxiety was working his way up again in Yuuri’s mind, so he interrupted him immediately:

“No buts, we are going to the Tokyo Dance Week, we are going to attend all of the courses and watch all of the shows and we are going to have a lot of fun! Period.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened.

“A-all of the courses? But there will be hip-hop classes, break-dance, tango, Latin American dance... oh, no! I remember reading somewhere that Chris is going to be among the guest teachers, too!”

Phichit put on his most devilish smile and answered slowly:

“All of them.”

“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh??”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry, I didn't want to make my poor little Yuuri suffer, but I promise he is going to be better soon!  
> Also, a new character makes his appearance, I hope you liked my hyper-extra version of Chris, I was really looking forward to introducing him.  
> See you next week!
> 
> A little note and some trivia:  
> I want to point out that I have absolutely nothing against hip-hop clothes in general, I use them all the time, I just thought it would be funny for Yuuri and Phichit to wear them since they usually dress up very differently in the show and in this universe they are ballet dancers. I hope I haven't offended anyone!  
> The all hip-hop scene is inspired by a true story from some years ago when my friend and I attended an actual Dance Week. In order to reach the required number of classes we had to add hip-hop, but we didn't have any suitable clothes because we intended to do only ballet and contemporary dance at most and, on top of that, we couldn't do any of the moves since they were completely different from what we used to do! In the end, even if we were probably ridiculous to watch, we had a lot of fun and the following year we prepared ourselves beforehand and attended the class willingly (and more successfully).


	4. Tokyo Dance Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " "But it’s so difficult! I just wanted to...”  
> “Dance on the same stage as Victor, I know” completed Phichit for him, having heard that same phrase from the very first moment they met.  
> “Yuuri, you were among the final twenty at one of the most demanding auditions in the World! I wouldn’t call that ‘messing up so badly’! It’s true you fell during one of the exercises, but only twenty people saw that, right?”  
> "Twenty-one, and one being..." "
> 
> \--
> 
> Tokyo Dance Week begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for reading, commenting and leaving Kudos! I appreciate it a lot <3  
> So, you may have noticed that this became a series, the reason is that I wanted to write a fluffy scene about Phichit and Yuuri just being in Hasetsu and training, but I'd rather have chapter 3 end with Yuuri yelling and I couldn't fit it in this chapter because it would have diverted the attention too much, so I figured I'll just post it as a mini-fic on his own. I will probably add more, as the story progresses. They are not necessary for the plot, so you can skip them if you want. Otherwise, let me know if you liked it!  
> Also, I am on Tumblr now! I opened a page dedicated to this fic and fics I read/liked/want to write in general, you can find me at onpointedfeetandbrokendreams.tumblr.com ! Come say hi if you want!

The next few points in Phichit’s list took all the following two weeks to complete, as they covered learning or revising the basic steps of different dancing styles and rehearsing some of their old choreographies. In the papers composing “The Plan” had been included very detailed explanations with schemes and suggested exercises, so they busied themselves with training and experiments, some more successful than others. Then, the day of the departure arrived.

They managed to put everything Phichit claimed they needed in two big suitcases plus their backpacks and after thanking and saying goodbye to Yuuri’s family they started their travel towards the event. Two trains and a flight later they reached their hotel room in the official hotel for the participants. When they finished unpacking it was getting dark, but Phichit couldn’t wait to go out sightseeing, so he dragged his sleepy companion along the streets of Tokyo.

The city was abuzz for the event, all around the streets there were banners and information points. Different local theatres and dance schools had been deployed for the lessons and shows on schedule and in the Convention Center, the representants of the various venturers could be met to ask for information about their Companies or Academies and to try and get an audition. There were the most important dancers of the World from the most varied styles and many attended the classes in hopes of getting a contract with one of them. 

While they were walking, Yuuri checked for the hundredth time the names listed under the Bolshoi Academy, relieved once again to recognize only the one of Georgi Popovic.

“It won’t change overnight, you know?” teased him Phichit.

“I do, I just want to make sure that I read correctly.”

Phichit shook his head.

“Even if you by accident misread the names the first time or the second, you couldn’t have possibly kept reading them wrong for two weeks! You’ve been checking that page every day since I showed you the tickets and I bet that you know it by heart now.”

Yuuri nodded, putting his phone in his pocket, but he already knew that he would check it again later. They headed to a ramen shop for dinner that according to Phichit had good reviews and they went over their schedule for the following day, timetable on one hand and notebook on the other so as to be sure about not forgetting anything important.

Phichit pointed decisively at a line he hadn’t noticed before:

“We should totally try this!”

Yuuri’s eyes widened with fear.

“N-No we shouldn’t, Phichit-kun! Do I have any say in which lessons to choose? You know what, we should split, I don’t want to slow you down, go ahead and I will find something else.”

“What a mean thing to say! I could never leave you!”, Phichit sounded outraged by the suggestion.

“Phichit-kun, please. I can’t do pole dancing! Anything else? Remember that I already agreed to learn tango and hip-hop!”

Phichit pouted but decided not to insist, for the moment.

“Yeah, it’s probably the only thing we didn’t buy suitable clothes for.”

“I-I don’t think that would be the problem.”

“Let’s put a pin in it and keep looking.”

Yuuri sighed, but Phichit ignored him and turned the page.

“Would you like to go to the opening exhibition tomorrow evening? There will be a performance from the participants associated with some dance company, the Bolshoi’s students will be there! Maybe if we tell them we are from Detroit Ballet they’ll let us dance, too.”

Yuuri thought about it for a moment, it might be nice to do some kind of show there, but it wasn’t completely their choice to make.

“I don’t know if Celestino would agree, though. We are not here officially for the company.” he replied.

“He would totally agree if we ask him! He couldn’t send anyone to attend because they are performing Midsummer with the second cast this weekend in Boston. And I think the organization wouldn’t mind either, last minutes shows are added all the time in this kind of events.”

“Let’s ask Celestino first. If he thinks it could be helpful for the Company we could think about it.”

Phichit rolled his eyes.

“Just because I told you that Ciao Ciao was a little upset about not having any representant here, that doesn’t mean our goal has to change, remember that we are here solely to have fun, not ‘for the Company’!”

Yuuri didn’t answer and Phichit took that as an agreement, so he asked, grinning:

“What would you like to do if they agree?”

Yuuri’s face lit up.

“There’s only two of us, so we don’t have many options.”

They smiled at each other, nodding in unison:

“ _Grand Pas Classique_ ”

“Aw, that would be amazing!” said Phichit, starry-eyed.

Yuuri agreed, anticipation building up in his heart. It had been a long time since they did that particular _piéce_ , they were both very fond of it and they had hoped for a long time to have the chance to perform it again. Breaking out from his reverie, Phichit noted his friend was similarly rapt and gave him a mischievous smile:

“Let’s do it. I am going to call Celestino, then first thing tomorrow we’ll go to the registrar’s point to ask for permission.”

A spark of determination flashed through Yuuri’s eyes and he nodded again.

With that goal in mind they finished planning, sticking to more traditional classes for the first day, in order to have time to rehearse for the exhibition: stretching, classical ballet, _repertoire_ , then lunch-break and in the afternoon only contemporary dance and hip-hop.

“Except for the hip-hop class, that I want to do first, this way we’ll also have time to adapt to the routine and practise the _Grand Pas Classique_ , then we’ll add the more interesting lessons for the following days” proclaimed Phichit, looking at the program.

They finished dinner and walked slowly back towards their hotel, talking and looking at the streets that were livening up for the evening. Along the way, Yuuri could swear he recognized someone standing on the opposite side of the walkway, but he couldn’t place who that may be or why he had had that impression at all.

  
  
  


Victor and Chris were sitting in the lounge of their hotel, drinking sake and chatting happily to each other. They arrived in Tokyo the day before to relax from the long travel and adjust to the different time zone in time for the official beginning of the event and they had agreed to spend a quiet evening together.

After a couple of hours of laughing and pleasant conversation, Chris turned suddenly serious:

“What is it that is troubling you, Vee? I have known you for a long time, I can see that you are hiding something.”

Victor sighed, his friend had always had the ability to read him like an open book.

“Do you know why they sent me here?” he asked.

“Of course I do, everyone does! It’s for Sleeping Beauty! You are obviously performing as the Prince, and you are here hoping to find a Princess to propose for the audition!”

Victor gave him a puzzled look and replied:

“Not quite. I mean, no one ever talked about looking for a _ballerina_ here, but the reason is the ‘obviously’ in your sentence.”

“Come on, don’t tell me you don’t want that role!”

“Of course I want it, but it’s like everyone already knows what I’m going to do next. How can I surprise people if I only ever do what they expect me to do? I choreographed a couple of neoclassical _pièces_ in the past few years and they made me endure a little longer, probably, but now everyone is used to that, too. I don’t know what to do, I am left without inspiration.”

“What about the competitions?” Chris asked and Victor barely suppressed a laugh.

“They are a farce lately. I feel like I could win by doing the Little Blue Bird or another variation for first graders like that. They read my name and don’t even bother watching my show. I can see them write the numbers of points before I even start dancing! If I can’t awe the audience everything is worthless, show or prize in the same way.”

“You do know that I’m probably the last person you should go to for an advice in this matter, don’t you?”

Victor sighed.

“I know. I admire you for what you did, it was brave of you to leave Ballet and start your own company, create your style and everything, but I could never do something like that. I love Ballet, it’s my life and the Bolshoi is the best of the bests, what could I find elsewhere that I don’t have already and better here?”

“I really don’t know. For me it was different, Ballet with all its rules constricted me. I needed a fresh start to create something different.”

Victor’s expression was sour. They ordered another sake and remained in silence.

Two drinks later Chris had his cheerful expression back and an idea:

“Here’s a thought, why don’t you try something different for this week? Use it as a pause for reflection and do some courses when you are not on official duties, take part in the final show, try to enjoy yourself and clear your mind.”

Victor pondered it, all things considered, he was at a Dance Fair, he might as well try to take advantage of it.

“You may be right, it won’t do any harm to try. Perhaps I will join your lesson after all!” he replied, with a hopeful smile on his lips.

  
  
  


The morning of the first day of Tokyo International Dance Week, Yuuri woke up with a mixture of conflicting emotions. Phichit and his plan momentarily forgotten, as well as the perspective of having to attend a number of courses he was uncomfortable with. It would have been the first time since his audition at Bolshoi that he went to a proper ballet class. He had trained both alone and with Phichit in the in-between weeks, his daily routine too much a part of him to abandon so quickly, but this was different. Even if being in Hasetsu had helped him heal, he wasn’t completely over the burning disappointment he had been carrying since then. He could still feel the panic simmering in the pit of his stomach and he hadn’t forgotten his outburst in the night after the shopping day in Saga.

Not wanting to dwell on it too much, though, he tried to focus on the positive feelings and he tugged gently at Phichit to tell him he needed to get ready for the day.

Celestino had immediately agreed to their proposal about the opening show, happy because it was good for the image of the Company to have representatives in this kind of events, but even more so because Yuuri was willing to dance, even if in an unofficial occasion. He had been worried about his former pupil since he received his cold e-mail, obviously copied from a precompiled template and therefore completely detached, in which he resigned from Detroit Ballet. Now, all was left to do was for them to make their presence known to the organization.

They left the room carrying two big duffel bags containing everything they needed for the rest of the day and moved to the registrar’s point. There, they found a young Japanese woman who approved enthusiastically their request, saying that it would be an honor to have their national pride Yuuri Katsuki dancing for them. Needless to tell, said man thought he’d die of embarrassment and babbled an acknowledgment before excusing himself and saying he would be late for the first class.

The stretching lesson went smoothly, it gave them the ache in the muscles and the feeling of control over their own body that, as dancers, they craved. The classical ballet and _repertoire_ lessons were more difficult. Yuuri was thrilled to study with the international teachers present, but he was also afraid of the backlash of ending up in a situation similar to his audition.

He was tentative during the first exercises, then he managed to unwind, focusing on the music and on the required movements and at the end of the lesson he was smiling openly, much to Phichit’s delight.

For the afternoon they had chosen lessons farther from their own field. They had both already attended contemporary dance classes in previous events, so it wasn’t a surprise. Hip-hop was a different story entirely.

The teacher immediately caught them red-handed and put them in the first row, along with the others ballet dancers, to watch them closely.

“I know your kind” - he told them - ”you have this habit of trying to fit my moves into your positions and rules, but not on my turf. I see you all.”

They really tried to avoid that, but when he instructed a forward jump, with a leg bent at a right angle behind their back and the arms outstretched over their head, muscle memory took over and they couldn’t help ending up in an _attitude derriére_ in fifth position.

“What are you doing?” the teacher accused.

“We are sorry!” started Yuuri guiltily, but he could see that everyone in his line was doing the same thing.

That first reproach was followed by many more and they exited the room with eyes downcast. They went to rehearsal for the evening show and their mood improved considerably only when their music for the exhibition started.

There weren’t many people waiting to perform and most of them were familiar faces. Phichit and Yuuri stopped talking with a few old friends of theirs and agreed to go out for dinner together after the show was over, then they got ready for the show.

“I am so excited about doing this variation together again! We totally rocked last time we did!” exclaimed Phichit while they were stretching, waiting for their turn to go.

“Yeah, it was good, wasn’t it?” answered Yuri, his voice less certain than that of his friend.

Phichit chuckled to himself and shook his head, knowing that he would never get a bigger acknowledgment than that and that for Yuuri to admit just this much meant a lot. They both knew the truth, anyway.

They had never done the _Grand Pas Classique_ officially with the company, they were preparing the male variation for an exhibition and Celestino proposed them to do it together, at which they both eagerly agreed. It was a short Ballet designed to show the beauty and perfection of classical dance, so it was technically demanding, but more than everything it was a beautiful waltz, that needed grace and long lines to be executed perfectly. They had loved the _pièce_ from the first moment they saw it, they had loved all the more doing it together and everyone who saw the execution loved it, too.

“Next on the stage, representing Detroit Ballet Company, we have Katsuki Yuuri and Phichit Chulanont. They will perform a duo version of the male variation from _Grand Pas Classique_ ” the announcer called and they took position.

The first part was the same as the solo version, both of them did the jumps and spins in unison, then they went to the opposite corners of the stage to start the _manèges_. Phichit danced in a smaller circle in the center of the stage in a direction, while Yuuri did wider moves in the other, passing near each other and turning. For the final sequence, they reunited in center and finished posing with a knee bent on the stage, one arm to the side and the other elongated towards the ceiling in fifth position. They were perfect, Phichit with his determined, strong presence and bright smile and Yuuri with his softer and elegant movements. At the end of the choreography, they bowed deeply and exited the stage to leave space for the other participants. As expected, it was a success.

Yuuri was practically in tears as he was saying:

“It has been so beautiful! I missed this!”

Phichit barely held back from hugging him, but he knew that his friend wasn’t fond of physical contact, so he tried his best to contain his enthusiasm, not wanting to ruin the moment and simply answered that he felt the same, looking at him fondly.

The emotion didn’t leave Yuuri until late that night, after the pleasant evening with the other dancers that took part in the show and the walk to the hotel room. Then, the negativity he had feared all day took over. He hid under the covers of his bed, fighting back the tears and hoping that his friend didn’t notice. He still loved dancing so badly, he still wanted to do it, but here, in this bubble of time and space, it was easy, this he could do. Outside, in the real world, in the reality of the Ballet company, he couldn't face his coach and his own disappointment in himself.

Phichit saw through him immediately.

“Yuuri, do you want to talk?”

Yuuri shook his head, without leaving his spot under the blanket. Phichit sighed, but they hadn’t been roommates for so long for no reason and he wouldn’t give up easily.

“Yuuri, please, I am your best friend, it’s my job to help you!”

Yuuri’s voice was muffled by the covers and cracked, so Phichit neared to hear him better, careful not to intrude on his space too much.

“I wish it could always be like that, like here, dancing all day without worries, just practicing, even trying new embarrassing styles!”

“Don’t you like it also when we perform for the Company, when we see it succeed, when we make Ciao Ciao proud?”

Yuuri stayed silent for a while, then he slowly uncovered himself and sat on the bed to look at his friend. His eyes were red.

“I do, but it’s so painful, it’s so difficult! I just wanted to...”

“Dance on the same stage as Victor, I know” completed Phichit for him, having heard that same phrase from the very first moment they met. Yuuri nodded and continued:

“And I don’t think he will ever be able to look at me without seeing my failure at the audition, now. I just don’t know what to do, how can I show my face again on a stage, how can I face Celestino after messing up so badly?”

“Yuuri, you were among the final twenty at one of the most demanding auditions in the World! I wouldn’t call that ‘messing up so badly’! It’s true you fell during one of the exercises, but only twenty people saw that, right?”

“Twenty-one, and one being...”

“Yes, but try to give yourself some more credit, ok? Tonight we have been amazing! I bet if _he_ had watched you there, he would have forgiven you for what happened in Moscow.”

Yuuri gave him a sad smile, unconvinced.

“I am sorry, Phichit-kun, that you always have to look after me like this.”

“I told you, it’s my job! Now let’s get some rest, tomorrow we are going to have an intense day.”

  
  
  


For the second day they decided to get it over with and do Chrisxx’s as their first class. Yuuri was blushing since before entering the room and Phichit was giggling by his side. Chris recognized them and greeted them affectionately, hugging them both with his hand a little too low on their backs. Yuuri stiffened and tried to free himself but Chris just smiled at him.

“I didn’t expect to see you two here! I heard that no one from Detroit Ballet was attending because you still have some dates of Midsummer Night’s Dream to cover!” 

Yuuri’s discomfort was getting worse, so Phichit stepped in:

“We weren’t supposed to, at the last minute our coach decided to give some space to the second cast and we took advantage of that to get some time off.”

“Well, whatever the case, I’m glad that you decided to attend my class! I promise I will try not to make you too much uncomfortable” he turned to Yuuri and winked at him, then moved to his spot in the front of the class to start the lesson.

Yuuri hurried to the farthest corner of the room and Phichit followed him.

“Good morning everyone and welcome to my lesson! As you probably know, my style is peculiar, so I don’t expect you to get it immediately, but please do your best!” said Chris to the people awaiting. His voice was low but clear and his smile open and supportive. He started explaining the first exercise, a simple sequence just to ‘relax the environment’. Then, after some other warm-up exercises and a little stretching, Chris stopped the music to start teaching a choreography:

“Good. Now let’s get to the interesting part. If you were here yesterday, you should already know this, so try to focus on improving it and personalize it more. You can choose if you’d rather keep stretching or if you need to revise the steps with us. For the others, I will now explain the choreography. It is going to be a sort of _pas de deux_ but decomposed, meaning that we are going to switch partners. Please pay attention to every part, not only to the one you are going to do today so that if you come back tomorrow or another day and you are in a different position, you won’t have to learn it from the top.”

He started the music and gradually showed them the movements a couple of times, while they marked them along to try and memorize everything. Yuuri was biting his lip in concentration, face painted a deep shade of red.

“Ok, let’s give it a try, shall we? When you are left without a partner do not freeze but make a pose, I am referring mostly to the people on the sides, but in any case, even if someone turns to the wrong direction. Please, nothing exaggerated and absolutely no classical ballet figures! You have to remain in tune with the style and the music. If you don’t feel comfortable enough because it’s the first time you dance to a choreography of mine, just take cues from the positions we already did. Five, six, seven, eight.”

He restarted the music and signaled them to begin, positioning himself to watch.

Yuuri was in the back corner and had his first movements with Phichit, then he was going to be alone for a while. His breath caught in his throat at the thought of having to improvise something in Chris’s style.

The music started with a woman’s voice singing softly and they started moving. Yuuri tilted his entire body seductively to his right, bending a leg and extending the other outward, his right arm in the air and his eyes closed, while Phichit gave his back to the audience, hands on his hips. They held the pose during the musical interlude, then switched position. On the third line of the song they turned to face each other and Phichit made a lazy _pirouétte_ while Yuuri run his hands along his sides, making them stop on one of his shoulders to dip him, then accompanied him with the left arm to make him jump and land near his next partner. Being left alone, Yuuri made a slow turn on himself with his arms in an elongated fifth position, head back and watching longingly at the ceiling. He was distantly aware of the sounds of a door closing and Phichit gasping when he felt a strong arm on his back and a hand on the side of his head. Recognizing the position that followed Phichit’s jump, he figured a new person must have joined the class and he went along with the steps, relieved that he didn’t need to improvise anymore. 

He tilted, leaning on his new partner completely. His scent was nice and the warmth of his hands made Yuuri feel so good he forgot to ask himself why he was feeling that way or why Phichit gasped before. He was supposed to turn and lock eyes with the other, while he moved backward carrying him along and every piece fell into place in the moment he lost himself in a pair of blue eyes. If he wasn’t already steady in Victor’s arms he would have surely collapsed, but Victor didn’t let him fall, holding him tightly and that grounded him. Yuuri let his body follow the choreography, shutting down his brain completely, just muscle memory and music. Victor spun him and slid his hands on his chest as if hugging him, then turned back to let him go. Yuuri felt dizzy at the loss of contact, but he was still in trance, so he put himself in the dance and he managed to regain enough control to take the hand of his third partner when she reached for it.

The choreography was beautiful, the people in the room kept the rhythm, moving closer and away from each other in sync, resembling the tides of the sea. Yuuri and the girl in front of him walked in a circle, looking at each other, but instead of her brown eyes, he kept seeing the blue ones he had just left. 

He changed partner again, doing some steps in unison with a guy shorter and probably a lot younger than him. A roll of their shoulders, _pirouétte_ towards one another, Yuuri sliding his left leg on the floor while the boy put his right one high in the air, to drop it on his chest. Yuuri bent his knees to deepen his partners split, then took his hands to support him as he rotated his upper leg, bringing it backward. He raised and pushed the other into a jump that ended in front of him to start a lateral jump together. Finally, they separated their hands and with a sequence of spins, they went back to their first partner. 

Yuuri reached for Phichit as if his life depended on it. His friend’s concern was mixed with his surprise, the moment he took Yuuri’s arm he found himself close to his ear, so he managed to whisper to him:

“I don’t know how you are doing it, but you are being great, Yuuri. Keep it on, only a couple of steps to go before the end of the lesson! Remember that he is just another dancer!”

Yuuri nodded, his lips tight to keep himself from breaking. He stopped, tilted backward to let Phichit pass over him and step aside, repeating in his head that phrase to convince himself: 'He is just another dancer, he is just another dancer'. Then, he opened in the opposite direction to jump and go back in Phichit’s arms, so that his friend was almost lifting him. 

Phichit put him back on the ground and, before leaving, he squeezed his arm reassuringly. Yuuri breathed slowly and steadied himself. 'He is just another dancer'. He was now supposed to go back to Victor, hold him while he jumped and then dip him on the other side, while he raised his leg. 

He put in his grip all the firmness and, at the same time, all the softness that he was capable of, trying not to look at him in the eyes. And finally the music stopped. He gazed up, to make sure that he didn’t do anything wrong and he found himself unable to take his eyes off. Victor was watching him, too, his look unreadable. 

Chris clapped his hands and thanked them all for attending the class and Yuuri startled, gently let Victor go to help him get back on his feet, then mumbled something that sounded like “thankyougoodbye” and ran out of the room as fast as he could. Apparently, no one else beside Phichit noticed the way Yuuri and Victor held the pose for far too long after the music had stopped. Phichit looked around, unsure about what to do, this was definitely not part of his plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trivia:
> 
> * A Manèges is a classical ballet term meaning “circular.” It describes when a dancer does steps in a circular pattern around the stage.  
> *Grand Pas Classique choreography is a repertoire piece, if you are interested you can find it on Youtube, just search 'Grand Pas Classique male variation', there are several videos, all of them are beautiful!  
> *Chris' choreography is mine, I invented it purposefully for this scene, danced to it in my room and then tried - probably badly - to describe it, I hope you liked it! The music is "Shelter" from the XX, in this version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lRMgm6Ukbko
> 
> Feel free to comment or write to me on Tumblr and let me know what you think!!  
> I don't know if I'll be able to post the chapter next week because I am going to be away from home, but I will try! Otherwise, I will post it as soon as I got back!


	5. Let’s go dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " Phichit thought about how much to reveal him and settled to:  
> “Sure, the more the merrier, but remember it’s Yuuri’s night! He is having a hard time at the Company and he really needs to distract himself and have fun.”  
> Chris nodded in understanding.  
> “All the more I am in, then! Can I bring a friend of mine, too?”  
> “Only if he is good-looking like you and he is Yuuri’s type.” joked Phichit.  
> “Um, and what is Yuuri’s type?”  
> “Let me see, tall, blonde, light eyes, has to know how to move, possibly a dancer...” "
> 
> Featuring more canon-ish events and the consequences of the dancing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you all for the kudos and the comments in the last chapter, I really appreciated it!  
> I'm sorry for the week break, but I am back! Hope this chapter will be worth the wait.  
> As usual, I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think about it! <3

Phichit waved at Chris and hurried towards the changing rooms, expecting to find his friend hiding there, but he came out empty-handed. This was not supposed to happen, he thought, he had checked and double checked and Victor wasn’t supposed to be there, Yuuri wasn’t ready for this, he was making progress and now everything was going to fall apart. His plan needed to be deeply revised and, most of all, accelerated. In that moment, he heard the familiar sound of someone hyperventilating in the near corridor.

‘The situation is worse than I imagined!’

He ran after the source of the noise to find not who he was looking for.

A little blonde boy, probably a teen, was surrounded by a group of people. He had eyes impossibly wide open and full of tears. Phichit, who had Googled a lot about panic attacks in the past few weeks, recognized the symptoms and made room for himself to get closer to him. He remembered reading that it could help to make the person focus on something mechanical, that triggered different areas of the brain, like listing street’s names or the ingredients of some recipe. He didn’t know anything about where the boy lived and he didn’t know what recipe he could know, but considering where they were and the clothes he was wearing, he was probably a dancer of some kind. So Phichit figured that he could go with that.

“What kind of dance do you do?”

The people gathered around stared at him with puzzled looks, but the boy shrieked. 

“Ohmygodyouaretalkingtome!”

“I am?” - Phichit was confused by the reaction - “I am trying to help, tell me what kind of dance you do.”

“Modern-jazz”, the boy answered in a breath.

“Ok. I am awful at modern dance, but you do have _tendu_ , don’t you?”

The boy nodded.

“Good, perfect. Recite to me the last _tendu_ exercise that you did.”

Surprisingly, despite the perplexed looks of everyone around them and Phichit’s own incredulity, it seemed to work. The boy started mumbling the description of the exercise:

“ _Devant_ , _derrière_ , second position, fifth. _Pique_ , _pique_ , _plié_ , _relevé_ , _cloche devant_ , first, first, fifth, _pirouette en dedans_ , turn, start over.”

“Good. Repeat it again.”

At every repetition of the words, the boy’s breath seemed to normalize.

“Do you feel better?”, asked Phichit smiling at him.

The boy started crying again at that, even if he was visibly calmer, and he babbled in a high-pitched tone that remembered his shriek from before, without pause between his words:

“Thank you phichit+chu, oh my god you are talking to me, thank you, you are so good and perfect and you are my savior!”

Phichit blinked. Being called with his Instagram username was weird, to say the least.

“Do you know me? Why are you calling me by my Instagram username?”

The boy gasped.

“Of course I do! You are our hero, we could never thank you enough for everything you do and we love you so much. Your Instagram is our blessing.”

“O-kay?”. Phichit did know that his Instagram page was amazing and everything, but this was a little too much. The boy clung to him looking at him with pleading eyes.

“Where is he? Tell me, please! I need to talk to him! I can’t believe it, I will never wash my hands again, I promise! Neither my elbows! And my calf! Nothing! I will never ever have a shower again!”

“What are you talking about?”

“We danced together, haven’t you see? He held me, and he spun me and he made me jump! I think I am going to die! See, here, he touched me, and here, and here” he showed approximately every part of his body, then seeming satisfied with his answer, he asked again:

“So please, you have to tell me where he is gone!”

Phichit pondered the words, the boy had danced with someone and he was asking him, so he was probably talking about Chris’ lesson. Who was there that could cause this kind of reaction?

“Oh, I understand, you are talking about Victor, aren’t you? I am sorry, but I don’t know where he is, I haven’t seen him after I left the class.”

The boy glared at him, offended.

“Who cares about Victor Nikiforov! I am talking about Yuuri-kun, obviously! And you must know where he is, phichit+chu, because I know for sure that you are his friend!”

“Could you please stop calling me that? ‘Phichit’ is fine. Wait, Yuuri-kun? You mean Yuuri? Katsuki?”

The boy smiled, nodding excitedly, and Phichit couldn’t suppress a chuckle. Yuuri would probably be in a similar state as this boy right now if he wasn’t so deep in self-loathing and anxiety. The atmosphere was considerably lighter now, and the little crowd formed around the boy scattered, leaving the two of them alone, so Phichit answered:

“I don’t know where he is, either. I am looking for him, actually, but I don’t think he would want to see anyone in this moment, he has to prepare for his next lesson. I’m sorry. Maybe we will meet again later, ok?” 

He was trying to be supportive, but also firm. Yuuri was surely not in the mood to meet anyone, let alone a fanboy like this.

“Please, let me come with you! I have been waiting for this moment for all my life!”

“Don’t be dramatic, you’ll probably see him again soon anyway, we are going to be here all week!”

“B-but we had a connection when we danced together! I know he felt it, too”

Yuuri wouldn’t probably even remember that he had danced with Phichit that day, let alone this boy he had never met before, but if Phichit said that, he would break the boy’s heart, so he settled on something less dangerous:

“If you know him like you say, you will know that he wants to focus on practicing until the lessons aren’t over. I’ll go find him and talk to him, ok? You already follow me on Instagram, I presume, so write me a private message and, if he agrees, I will tell you where we can meet.”

The boy’s eyes sparkled.

“I am going to die! You will be made an honorary member of my Club, we will make you a statue!”

Phichit laughed, flattered.

“A medal is going to be enough! And what Club are you referring to?”

“The official Katsuki Yuuri fan club, of course, I am the President!”

“Wow! I want to be a member, then! I’ll go now, see you later… Uhm...”

“Minami Kenjirou!” answered the boy proudly.

Phichit shook his hand, chuckling to himself, then they parted so that he could continue his search.

 

Phichit found Yuuri in a secluded room in a basement. Face pale and hands shaking, taking deep breaths.

“Yuuri?” he called, trying to assess the situation.

Yuuri glanced at him, looking terrified and Phichit offered a supportive smile.

“Are you ok?”

Yuuri shook his head and asked:

“Can we please go home? Or hide somewhere and never come back again?”

“Yuuri, come on, you were so excited about this event! We have a lot of classes to attend to, shows to watch, things to try. Don’t give it all up for a little inconvenient!”

“Calling it a little inconvenient is the understatement of the century. This is terrible, Phichit-kun. Why is he here? He wasn’t supposed to be here!”

“I know. I don’t know why he is. Now that I think about it, though, I think that we saw him during our first evening in Tokyo, I shook the thought away at the time, figuring I must have been mistaken because we had checked more than a hundred times, but now I am pretty much sure!”

“Yeah, I had that impression too, we walked past him across the street while we were coming back to the hotel, but my mind wouldn’t process it. I can’t do this, Phichit-kun!”

“But you did! Before, at class, you finished the choreography making no mistakes!”

“Barely.”

“But you did it, Yuuri!”

Yuuri stayed silent for a moment, then shook his head.

“I am not ready, Phichit-kun, can we leave? Please?”

“I didn’t want to do this but... No, we can’t. If we leave, I’ll have to consider it a failure of the 7th point on my list and give you a much worse penalty game.”

“You wouldn’t” whined Yuuri.

“Oh, I would, and I will, Yuuri! I know that you can do this and I will be there for you every step of the way.”

The corners of Yuuri’s eyes were filling up with tears, but Phichit could see that he was trying to find a way to get his drive back, so he decided to lend him a helping hand and his voice softened.

“Look, we can change our schedule for today and go to lessons that he is less likely to attend to, and if you want I can go in the rooms first to check if he is there, but don’t give up! Then, tonight, we’ll go out and distract ourselves and tomorrow you will be ready to face him again, we just need to speed up my project a bit!”

Yuuri exhaled slowly, then nodded and Phichit grabbed his hand excitedly, trying to instill positivity in his friend. They could do this.

They headed to the changing rooms where they had left all of their things, including the event’s timetable, and Phichit took it and gave it to Yuuri.

“I won’t say anything this time. Your pick! Choose whatever makes you comfortable.”

Yuuri mumbled, considering the possibilities.

“We should discard everything related to ballet. And probably even contemporary dance, because he studied it for a while to explore new forms of expressions when he wanted to start choreographing.” Yuuri started, drawing a line over 'stretching', 'ballet', ' _repertoire_ ', ' _barre_ ', modern and contemporary dance and 'jazz'.

“We still have a couple of options” observed Phichit.

“Yes, but I’d rather avoid couple’s dancing of any sort” replied Yuuri in a hushed voice, blushing and deleting more lines from the timetable.

Phichit got a pretty good idea of why he was feeling that way, so he smirked at him.

“I wonder why…”

Yuuri covered his face with his hands and talked against his palms:

“You don’t understand Phichit-kun, I don’t think I can ever dance with anyone else again”

“I do understand, Yuuri, I’ve lived with you, remember? But I am offended! Won’t you dance with me, either?”

Yuuri tried to counter, but his growing embarrassment was preventing him to form coherent words, so Phichit interrupted him laughing.

“I know, I know. We can skip all of them, don’t worry. Tonight, however, you will dance with me.”

“Where are we going tonight?”

“Dancing, of course!”

“Um, we are dancers, at a Dance Fair and you tell me ‘we are going dancing’? You’ll need to be far more specific!”

“No, no, not at the Dance Week. We are going dancing _dancing_ at a club! That way you can dance with thousands of people and forget all about dancing with the Victor Nikiforov.”

Yuuri blushed again. They haven’t done that in a while, but it could be fun, as long as he stayed away from alcohol.

“What about tomorrow morning’s lessons?”

“We are young, we can manage! We used to do it back in Detroit, too, sometimes, right? And here our spot is not on the line if we make some mistakes!”

“Fine. But I don’t think it’ll work.”

Phichit winked at him.

“Leave it to me.”

“Ok, now I am officially worried.”

“Don’t be, it will be fun! So, what did you decide about our next class?”

Yuuri looked at his scribbled timetable. They missed the second class of the morning and, if they wanted to avoid everything he had erased from the list and do something else before the lunch break, they had only one option left.

“W-we can take a longer break and wait until the afternoon.”

Phichit approached him to read the paper himself and his lips opened in a grin.

“No, we are totally going!” he said and dragged his friend away from the changing room and towards the pole dance lesson.

 

Chris snapped his fingers in front of Victor’s eyes for the third times in the ten minutes they had spent in the cafeteria.

“Chris! You don’t understand!”, whined the second at the gesture.

“Oh, I do understand, Victor, you told me that at least ten times, already!”

“But he held me like I was the most precious thing in the World! And that look in his eyes! I never felt so important in my entire life!”

Christophe sighed. That was the eleventh time and for the eleventh time he tried, despite knowing what the answer would be:

“Go talk to him, then, instead of daydreaming and moaning like you are doing since my class has finished!”

“But I can’t! He told me “goodbye” and run away without a second glance, he obviously doesn’t want to talk to me.”

Chris shook his head.

“Look, we can repeat this conversation as many times as you want, but it won’t change my opinion on the matter: you need to pull it together on your own or go talk to him. Period. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a pole dance lesson to attend to. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

Victor shook his head.

“Fine. I’ll leave you to think about it. See you later. I hope you won’t be still here when I return.”

Victor rested his head upon his folded arms. Why was he feeling that way? He did felt curious about the American dancer after seeing him in the video, and he did wonder why he could be so breathtaking a moment and fell apart the following one doing much simpler movements, but he would never have thought it could go any further than that. He joined Chris’ lesson by pure chance because he had already learned the choreography the previous day and he had finished his obligations for the morning. He didn’t even put much thought into choosing the spot to take over, he simply took the first free position he saw, and there was this boy, shaking in his arm and threatening to trip on his own feet if Victor hadn’t caught him. What did he do to make him feel that way? Did the American dancer hate him so much that he couldn’t stand to dance with him? But then again, when he returned to him later he was a completely different person, lost deep in the music and leading Victor firmly and with tenderness, holding him like he was… the most precious thing in the World. And now it was twelve times he had repeated that, even if the last one only in his own mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about that. But the boy ran away immediately after the dance was over. Had Victor imagined it all? Did the other really hate him for some reason? Why did he leave like that after looking at Victor like he was something wonderful to be treasured?

 

Chris entered the pole dance lesson when it had already started and his eyes were immediately caught by someone practicing basic moves. His friend was watching him intently from the ground. Chris smiled to himself and approached them:

“Hello, Phichit! Wow, he is a natural, I didn’t think he had those moves inside of him!”

Phichit turned to greet him without changing his awed expression.

“Hello, Chris! Right? Thinking that he didn’t want to try this! Man, he is amazing! He should do this more often!”

Yuuri slid down the pole with his head upside-down and glared at them:

“Hello, Chris. Can you two, please, stop talking about me like I wasn’t here? I can hear you! And this is the most embarrassing thing I have ever done in my life and I am definitely not good at it, so stop making fun of me!”

“We are not! It’s the truth!” replied Chris. Then gave him a wicked smile and continued: “You should dance with me one day or another!”

Yuuri got off the pole, blushing and answered with a low voice:

“I don’t think I’ll ever do something like this again.”

“That would be a crime,” Chris said and Phichit agreed.

Yuuri deadpanned them and went back to the exercises the teacher was instructing.

After the lesson, Chris walked with them towards the changing rooms and since Yuuri was still ignoring them both, he was talking with Phichit instead:

“So, what are you guys doing later? I will be busy this afternoon with some choreography for a show, but I will gladly join you tonight if you are up for something fun!”

“Actually, we were planning to go dancing at a club I heard amazing things about!”

“Do tell, can I come?”

Phichit thought about how much to reveal him and settled to:

“Sure, the more the merrier, but remember it’s Yuuri’s night! He is having a hard time at the Company and he really needs to distract himself and have fun.”

Chris nodded in understanding.

“All the more I am in, then! Can I bring a friend of mine, too?”

“Only if he is good-looking like you and he is Yuuri’s type.” joked Phichit.

“Um, and what is Yuuri’s type?”

“Let me see, tall, blonde, light eyes, has to know how to move, possibly a dancer...”

“Really? Well, he is perfect! Write to me the address of the club, we’ll see you there!”

“Ok, bye Chris!”

Finally, Yuuri relented and said goodbye to Chris, too.

“What were you talking about?” he asked Phichit.

“He and a friend are joining us, tonight. He promised me that his friend is good looking and your type!” 

“I do not have a type, Phichit-kun!”

“The story of your past dates tell me a different thing.”

Yuuri tried to picture all of his failed attempts at dating someone over the past years and he could indeed see some recurring features.

“Fine, but it’s not like any of those dates was any successful!”

“Yeah, because none of them was enough Russian or enough top of the World dancer and their names weren’t Victor Nikiforov!”

“It’s not like that. I don’t like him like that, I just admire him. He is my idol, I don’t have a crush on him!” protested Yuuri, lowering his eyes.

Phichit gave him a knowing look.

“Sure you don’t. Anyway, it’s not like you have to marry Chris’ friend! We are just going to spend a night out with a couple of people and you can enjoy the view of a handsome man that you may or may not like!”

“Mm.”

They finished changing clothes and went on with the schedule for the day. After the lunch break, they had two different hip-hop classes and break-dance, because according to Yuuri it was the safest option, but they had fun, and hip-hop was easier than the first day. Then, they returned to their hotel room to get ready for the evening.

They were almost ready to go out when Phichit’s phone pinged with a notification.

“Oh, no I completely forgot! Yuuri, I met a fan of yours today who asked me if you want to meet him!”

Yuuri frowned.

“What? I don’t think I have fans, Phichit-kun.”

Phichit stood and pointed proudly to himself:

“Yes, you do! You have a fan club and I was made honorary member, today! They love me because I post photos of you on Instagram!”

“And why would anyone want to look at photos of me?”

Phichit rolled his eyes.

“Haven’t you heard what I said? They are your FAN CLUB!”

Yuuri didn’t believe he had such a thing, but he didn’t want to keep discussing the matter, so he sighed and chose the fastest way out:

“Fine, let’s say I believe it, can we meet him tomorrow at lunch? I don’t want to go to Chris’ lesson again and I presume we don’t have any other in common, right?”

“I think so. Ok, I’ll tell him that. He is going to be so happy!”

 

The club was crowded, flashing with light and the music was pounding loudly. Chris wasn’t there, yet, so they decided to order a drink - only one, Yuuri had made Phichit promise - and headed to the dance floor in the middle of the room. They let themselves flow with the music, the sweet blue cocktail and the people dancing around them starting to get their work done and making them relax.

Yuuri had his back towards the entrance but Phichit, who was dancing in front of him, spotted them immediately and paled. How could he possibly had not thought about that!

“Yuuri, don’t turn around. I have a good news and a bad one!” He yelled to make himself audible over the music.

“Phichit-kun! This was supposed to be a night to have fun and forget about this awful day! Can’t you just give me the good one and leave the bad for tomorrow?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think so! But the good news is that Chris’ friend is definitely _definitely_ your type!”

“What do you mea-no don’t tell me that!”

Phichit nodded slowly, scrutinizing him with worry.

“Do you want to go out?”

Yuuri released a deep breath and emptied the still half full glass he was holding.

“Yes... No... I don’t know! I need another drink!” he moved in the direction of the bar but Phichit stopped him and forced him to turn around.

“You made me promise we would be having only one glass.”

“I know, but I really need it, now, so forget about the promise.”

Yuuri set himself free from his friend’s grasp and before Phichit could stop him he had already bought another glass of the blue cocktail they had before.

“Yuuri, stop, you are going to make things worse!”, said Phichit, trying and failing to prevent him from emptying even that in one shot. Yuuri’s face was getting flushed from the heat and the amount of alcohol in his body, but the anxiety wasn’t going away.

“I don’t think I can do this. I can’t talk to him, I can’t even look at him in the eyes! This is going to be soo embarrassing, what can I do?”

“Yuuri, calm down, ok? Remember what we said this morning? He is just another dancer, you can do this if you want and if you don’t, we can go there, say hello and excuse ourselves pretending we had some inconvenience and we have to go away, ok?”

Yuuri nodded, biting his lower lip and taking deep breaths.

“I am sorry, Phichit-kun, I know you wanted to try this club, but can we go and find another one?”

“Sure, don’t worry about me, we will find something else!”

“Thank you.”

They made their way through the crowd to approach Chris and his friend and then exit the place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will they really leave? Who knows? And also.... Where is Yuri Plisetsky??  
> Maybe we will have some answers next week! Stay tuned, see you soon :-)


	6. Hold me again like that

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you’ll hold me like you did today, I could dance with you forever!”
> 
> A lot of dancing... And fluff! Also, the moment everyone was waiting for!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> I am sorry you didn't like my last chapter, I know it was kind of weak, probably, but it was meant to be that way because it was a preparatory chapter for this scene. Also, it was interrupted in the middle of the club scene purposefully, because I wanted what happened next to have its own chapter!  
> Anyway, this is THE chapter we were waiting for, for more than one reason as you'll see and it's the one I was most eager to write, so I really hope that you'll like it.  
> Thank you very much for reading!

Chris didn’t tell Victor exactly who it was they were meeting up with, he just casually said they were a couple of friends he met at the pole dance lesson and Victor was still too distracted by the morning events to question much. They entered the club and Chris searched the crowd for them. He spotted Phichit first, then noticed Yuuri hid behind him with the reddest face Chris had ever seen in someone. They were approaching their position, so Chris waved at them and Phichit returned the gesture, but he seemed uncomfortable with something.

Victor realized what was happening a minute later, but he didn’t have time either to be surprised either to complain with Chris about not telling him because his thoughts were immediately interrupted by an accusing finger pointed to his face and a voice shouting in a drunken slur:

“Vik-torrrrrrrrr.”

His name sounded different, the syllables were stretched and there were kindness and musicality to it. He realized that he liked the sound, despite the obvious drunkenness of the owner of the voice, and he found himself wondering what it would be like when called from the sober version of the man in front of him. He gave him his brightest smile, but Yuuri was looking at him with his eyes narrowed.

“Yes?”, Victor answered in a cheerful tone.

That seemed to make him infuriate even more.

“Every dance I did in all these years have been inspired by you, have been for you! And when we finally met you didn’t even recognize me as your equal! And then like it’s nothing you follow me on Instagram and you come dancing with me at class! Like it hadn’t been your fault that I flubbed my audition and couldn’t meet you and dance with you at the Bolshoi!”

Phichit was dumbfounded by the sudden outburst. The drink his friend had downed in one gulp must have been stronger than he thought. He knew Yuuri didn’t mean to say that things so directly and would probably regret it in the morning, so he tried to talk to him to stop him from revealing more:

“Yuuri, isn’t it better if we leave like we told?”

Victor was pale and couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Yuuri nor answer him. Chris just couldn’t stop laughing seeing the face Victor was making. When nobody did anything to break the awkward silence that followed, he spoke up, winking at Phichit:

“Phichit, dear, I think it’s better if we leave this two to sort things out, come with me, I love this song!”

Phichit tried to protest, but Chris led him back to the dance floor. 

“Chris, I am worried about him, he drank too much to have a conversation he would not regret.” Phichit told him when they were at a safe distance.

“Don’t worry, I swear it is going to be okay, I have seen Victor today and I know what I am talking about. Plus, it is surely going to be fun, so I suggest you take your phone out and get ready to take pictures.”

Phichit didn’t know what Chris was possibly be talking about and was torn between the temptation to really start taking pictures of the scene and his worries about his friend. In the end, temptation won and he reached for his phone. He turned it first towards themselves for a selfie, then in Yuuri’s direction. Chris laughed again before joining him.

After a couple of minutes, Victor came back to himself, but he didn’t seem to be able to give meaning to the words he had just heard. He knew he had upset Yuuri when they met at the airport and he didn’t recognize he was a dancer, but he had done nothing at the audition, he just entered the room to watch and happened to assist to his fall and consequent rejection by Lilia.

“I am sorry?” he tried to say, not knowing exactly what he was apologizing for. And as if on clue Yuuri asked:

“About what?”

“I-I… Chris’ lesson has been a completely chance I assure you, I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable or anything, it was the first free spot I saw when I entered the class. As for the Bolshoi audition… I don’t know what to say. I'm sorry I didn’t recognize you, back then. I saw you perform sometimes and I presume we did meet in competitions before? It’s just… I am a really forgetful person? I'm really sorry.”

Yuuri seemed to be pondering the words.

“How do you think I can accept your apologies? It was my chance to finally meet you on the same stage, I put all my dreams and hopes into that audition and you ruined it! Now I can’t even dance anymore because I can’t face my choreographer and teachers and I definitely can’t step on a stage and do anything because I am too embarrassed!”

Victor didn’t know what to do, he didn’t expect such sudden honesty. He wasn't good at dealing with other people's emotions when they were so raw and sincere. And he really did nothing during the audition.

“Man, I wish we could hear what they are saying!” commented Phichit from beyond his phone screen.

“I know, but this pictures of Victor’s face are gold! Look!” answered Chris, showing him various close up photos of Victor’s pale, puzzled but at the same time awed expression.

Phichit smiled, hoping not for the first time that this wouldn’t turn out too bad for his friend.

Finally, Victor answered:

“I don’t know what you think I've done at the audition but, well, if what you wanted was meeting me… You are meeting me now, even if this is not properly a stage, aren’t you? And you can’t stop dancing! You really are amazing when you don’t fall or zone out for some reason!”

Yuuri was taken aback by the compliment but tried to ignore it and to focus on the point Victor had just made, instead. It was a good one. He was, indeed, meeting Victor right now, in a dance floor instead of a stage, true, but it was still dancing, right?

“Dance with me, then. Now. I challenge you!” commanded Yuuri, his look determined, a little doubt betrayed only by the fact that he was slightly biting his lower lip. Victor felt lighter than he had in a long time and answered in a breath:

“If you’ll hold me like you did today, I could dance with you forever!”

Yuuri frowned, his lack of confidence menacing once again to break free and make him protest, but he shook it off and tried to continue showing a boldness he didn’t know he could manage and took Victor’s hand to lead him.

Phichit’s eyes widened when Yuuri passed near them and gave him a little smile.

“You film everything, I’ll take the photos!” he told Chris, who had seen Yuuri’s gesture and understood it had eased Phichit’s worries. He nodded and complied, noticing that Victor hadn’t even seen the two of them, focused as he was on the hand that was guiding him. 

‘Tomorrow I am going to tease him so much!’, Chris thought to himself.

Victor and Yuuri arrived in the middle of the dance floor while the music was changing. Yuuri continued to lead the way, starting to move with the bits of the song, even mumbling the melody a little. He was swaying his hips, eyes half closed and never letting go of Victor’s hand. Victor was spellbound, he let himself be carried and he was getting drunk in the sight of Yuuri’s dancing so close to him. The first song blurred in the second and they didn’t even notice, continuing to move around each other.

Victor recovered from the initial stupor and he was now completely focused, letting himself in the dance, instead of simply being carried. He had been challenged, after all, and he had never been the type to back out from a challenge. He used their joined hand to spin Yuuri and put his other hand on his back. Yuuri laughed, but then smirked at Victor, obviously not liking his attempt to take the lead. He changed the position of his hand to return the gesture and make Victor turn. The music by now completely forgotten, instead of the low thumping sounds of the club they were following their own song, getting closer and away and moving together across the room. Soon, even the other people were easily forgotten and their movements got wider and more challenging, almost like a whole new choreography was being created, to the music that only they could hear.

Everyone made room for them, enjoying the spectacle of the two people battling with each other while playing and teasing like there was no one else there. Even Phichit and Chris stopped taking pictures to just watch them, involved by their friends’ evident happiness.

Victor’s nose and years had turned pink and his eyes were shining, the only thing affecting his mood was the fact that his partner in this crazy dance seemed to not return his gaze. Yuuri, for his part, was doing his best to focus on keeping on dancing to hold onto this confident appearance he had somehow managed and that he was sure was made convincing only by the liquid courage still running through his veins. He was beaming, the little smile never disappearing from his lips, but he couldn't help keeping his eyes low, afraid that his self-doubt would creep in.

They passed like that the majority of the night and in the end, people stopped caring about them, feeling like they had intruded too much of this moment. Phichit and Chris gave up trying to pass the evening with their friends, too and resigned to go and have a drink together. They talked about dancing and work at their respective Companies and about the Fair they were both attending and enjoyed themselves listening to the music the DJ was playing - some of them needed to do that, at least, Chris had commented, and Phichit had chuckled, knowing exactly what he was referring to.

In the end, Yuuri’s tiredness and drunkenness took their toll and Yuuri felt his body failing to keep him standing. Just before he collapsed, Victor caught him, but that made them finally lock eyes. It was exactly like at the end of Chris’ choreography and Victor found himself unable to breathe, warmth spreading through his body and his face flushing. If he hadn’t already felt the time stop when they started dancing, he would surely have now. He could feel Yuuri's breath on his lips and he felt the need to get even closer, to get rid of the little space left between them, but he knew the other was way too drunk to think clearly and make a conscious decision about the matter. He tried to resist then, and while he was debating over with himself Yuuri spoke, without breaking the eye contact:

“Be my coach, Victorrrr. Help me for the next audition so that I can dance at the Bolshoi!”

He threw himself to hug Victor and, getting closer to his ear as his lips were almost touching it, he said again, whispering this time, his voice lowering and turning sleepy: “Will you be my coach, right?”

Victor gasped. He returned the hug but he wasn’t sure anymore if it was he holding Yuuri to prevent him from ending up on the floor or the other way around. He felt overwhelmed by a number of different emotions, some of them which he didn’t have a name for. 

He looked around to search for Chris, saw him having a drink with Yuuri’s friend and moved, almost carrying the worn out dancer on his arm.

“H-he collapsed, I think he is asleep, should I help you carrying him to his room?” Victor babbled to Phichit when he reached them.

Phichit gave him a suspicious look and moved to take Yuuri and help him stand on his feet in Victor’s place, before answering:

“He is sharing the room with me, and I think it’s better if _I_ take him there.”

Victor realized that his intentions might have been misunderstood and immediately shook his hands in front of him, frantically.

“No no no, I didn’t mean anything, I promise, I just wanted to help!”

“Still. I am perfectly capable. See you tomorrow.”

“Ok” breathed Victor, his eyes still widened.

“What class will you be attending tomorrow?” he asked Phichit, considering that Yuuri would be too asleep to answer for himself.

“I don’t know, yet. Bye.” Phichit cut out, saying goodbye to Chris as well and leaving.

“My my, Victor, you are getting it bad! And you haven’t even seen him pole dancing!” commented Chris, teasing his friend and offering him his drink.

Victor didn’t say anything, but gladly took the glass, his gaze lost in the direction of the door from which Phichit and Yuuri had just passed.

 

“Phichit-kuun! My head hurts so much!!” cried Yuuri the next morning, waking up with the worst hangover he had ever experienced.

“You deserve it. You shouldn’t have drunk that second cocktail so quickly”

“I know, but I didn’t want to get anxious and I couldn’t think straight! I am sorry. Thank you for carrying me home by the way.”

“Anytime.” Phichit smiled at him, taking him some water and a pill for his headache.

“I am sorry the night didn’t go as planned but thank you for leaving with me, I couldn’t have born talking to Victor.”

“Um, what?”

“Yeah, when we saw them and you accepted to leave, I am grateful, even if it wasn’t what you wanted, you did it anyway. Thank you.”

Phichit was puzzled. Why was he pretending that he didn’t dance with Victor or talk to him all night? Did he want to forget it happened? Did he regret it so badly? But his smile had seemed genuine. He couldn’t have really forgotten, could he? Wanting to respect Yuuri’s desire not to talk about the evening, he decided to change the matter.

“It was really not a problem, don’t worry about it. Which lessons do you want to go to today?”

“Be careful, if you let me choose the program for two days in a row, I could get used to it!”

“Just because we wouldn’t be able to do anything complicated in our current state. But for this afternoon I am taking charge again.”

They both smiled and got ready for the day.

“I think the safest option would be Chris’ lesson, by the way. We already know the choreography and it would require less concentration. If Victor is there I just have to go to the other side of the room and ignore him.”

Phichit raised a brow, the day before he would have considered this a progress, but now it was just weird. He had expected Yuuri would want to go to Chris’ lesson again, but for the opposite reason, purposefully for meeting Victor.

“Or, you could dance with him.” he suggested.

“No, I would be too afraid to make some mistakes and have him see my shortcomings, so I’d rather not to. And I don’t think he would want to dance with me again, I had luck yesterday and I will cherish that memory. Our night out has really helped me clear my head and put things in perspective. I know I will never be able to consider him as just another dancer, but I can be in the same room as him without freaking out if he is far enough.”

“Okay?” Phichit was more and more confused.

They entered Chris’ class and Victor was there, in the same position he had been the day before. Yuuri glanced at him but immediately cast his eyes away and positioned himself to the opposite side of the room.

Phichit greeted both Victor and Chris and moved to the center, wanting to give Yuuri his space since he seemed to be in one of his moments in which he wanted to be alone. Victor smiled when he saw them enter the room, but he faltered when Yuuri didn’t say anything to him. Phichit shrugged in his direction, to let him know that he didn’t know what was happening, either.

After the lesson was over, all of them exited the class. Phichit and Yuuri moved towards their ballet lesson because Yuuri had judged that after Chris’ they would be awake enough to face it. Victor tried to approach them to say hi, but Yuuri ignored him and kept walking.

“Why is he not speaking to me?” Victor asked Chris who had finally finished talking with his students and had exited the room as well.

“Oh, no, I don’t want to spend another break hearing you whine, I have to work this afternoon and I presume you do, too.”

“Yes, actually I should be working even now...”

“Yakov will kill you when he finds out.”

“Probably. Fine. I’ll go. But Chris, you are very mean today!”

“It’s for your own good.”

Victor went to the Convention Center to stand by the Bolshoi Academy’s post, but it looked like his absence had already been reported to Yakov since his phone was ringing. He could already hear his director’s yells.

“Da?” he answered coolly.

“Victor, why weren’t you doing your job this morning? You are not there in Japan to slack off, you are there representing our Theatre!”

“I know, I am sorry, I was delayed.”

He put his phone away from his ear to prevent himself from being deafened by the shouting in rapid Russian that followed. He smiled at a couple of people that passed by him and waited for his director’s outburst to end. When the voice quieted he put his phone back up and talked again:

“Actually, I think I am going to take a year off from the Bolshoi and stay here a little while longer, there is something I have to do.”

He removed his phone again, expecting more yelling, but they didn’t come. Yakov was silent. That was weird, scarier even.

“Yakov?”

“Vitya. If you leave now, you won’t be able to come back.” his voice was calm, it seemed soft.

“I am sorry. I’m grateful for every opportunity I’ve had at the Academy and for everything the Company has done for me, but I have to go. Thank you for everything, Yakov. Goodbye.”

He shut the phone call and breathed deeply. He hadn’t realized he had made this decision, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. He hadn’t felt inspired for years and now, suddenly, he was. Completely. He couldn’t stop thinking about Yuuri’s movements in the videos of his previous performances, in Chris’ class, when they danced together in the club. He wanted to create a choreography for him, to valorize his beauty and his strengths and to have him dance to his true potential. He couldn’t wait to see it. Bouncing with excitement he answered all the questions about the Bolshoi from the people stopping by him until the lunch break, then he ran to the building dedicated to rehearsal for the evening shows and similar to look for an empty room and started practicing. The movements flowed through his mind freely, telling any sort of different stories and he couldn’t stop them. He spent the rest of the day there, forgetting to eat and to rest, but feeling the happiest he had ever been in his life.

 

After ballet and _repertoire_ , Phichit and Yuuri met with Yuuri’s Fan Club. Apparently, the boy Phichit had met the previous day had spread the news to the other members and many boys and girls around his age had come to join him and meet their idol. Yuuri’s discomfort at the attention was undeniable, but Phichit’s presence helped him a lot and he managed to smile and talk to everyone as he signed various t-shirts, posters and notebooks, as well as had a huge number of selfies taken with them. He still couldn’t believe how those kids could possibly look up to him of all people, but Phichit remembered him that he was one of the best Japanese dancers, that he had traveled around the World following his dream, and as his countrymen, they probably hoped to be like him someday. He pointed out that they probably could identify with his past self who trained in Japan like them, struggling to be better and to make himself a name more than with some foreigner, further from their lifestyle. It was a reasonable explanation, like most of the times was with Phichit, Yuuri recognized that, but still, even among the Japanese dancers, there surely were people more skilled than him.

“Now we’d better go to our next lesson, we’ll see you around, okay?” said Phichit, to help his friend out of the situation. Yuuri looked at him with gratitude and mimicked a silent ‘thank you’ in his direction. Minami bowed deeply.

“Thank you, phichit+ch-Phichit! Thank you, Yuuri-kun, we are immensely grateful that you gave us this opportunity to meet you!”

“You are welcome.” answered Yuuri, trying not to blush too much. He could never get used to that.

After another couple of thank-yous from the others, Phichit and Yuuri got back to the building where their next lessons would be held and got to the changing rooms. The control over what class to chose was back to Phichit, who had declared that they had diverted from his program already for too long.

“Since yesterday you were a little upset and we couldn’t carry on with our plan to learn Latin American dance, we are going today, so let’s wear our outfits!” He started.

Yuuri rolled his eyes but didn’t complain. They wore their matching “sexy outfits”, as Phichit had dubbed them, and headed to the class. After the lessons were over, they were exhausted, the lack of sleep from the night before catching up to them, so they decided to skip the evening shows and went to the hotel. Yuuri had kept avoiding talking about Victor all day and Phichit had let him take his time, but now that they were alone in their room he needed to at least try and test the situation:

“So, Yuuri, do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“Um? About Victor?” Phichit really didn’t understand what was happening to him, was Yuuri so in denial?

“There’s nothing to talk about. We danced, that’s all. I am trying not to think much about it, so I’d rather you stopped bringing the subject up.”

“Okay, I'll stop. I'm sorry. I am not sure he wants to move on like that, though, he obviously wanted to speak with you this morning and you didn’t even say hi to him.”

“It’s not like we know each other or anything. I didn’t mean to be rude, but for some reason, I feel like I'm finally able to not be affected so much by his presence? I was trying to take advantage of that. I thought you would be proud, isn’t that what you wanted? That I started treating him more like a normal human being?”

When Yuuri yelled at Victor in the club, Phichit had worried he would regret it, but apparently, getting all those things out of his system and telling the truth in the face of the real person, had done him good. Even if he didn’t hear the entire conversation, he witnessed how it started, so he could imagine a couple of things that had been said. He could understand why Yuuri was feeling that way.

“I respect your decision.” He told him.

“Thank you, Phichit-kun. Good night.”

“Good night, Yuuri.”

 

“He said what??”

The teen's voice was beyond irritation as he stopped with his leg mid-air to glare at the red-headed girl that had bursted into the room with the news.

“Yuri, go back to the _barre_ , your practice isn’t over.” Snapped Lilia, maintaining her composed expression. Then, she turned to the girl herself:

“Mila, what did I tell you about interrupting the lessons?”

“I'm sorry.” She answered guiltily, hurrying to get back to her own practice, but the damage was already done. Yuri’s face was red with anger and he couldn't focus even on the most basic moves. Lilia sighed and let him leave earlier than he was meant to, not without remembering him that if he didn’t make up for the lost time in some way, he would lose his opportunity to debut with the Company the following year. Yuri nodded and run after Mila immediately, calling out as soon as he saw her:

“Old hag, tell me everything you know!”

“I am not old, Yura! Stop calling me that! And I know nothing more than what I've already told you. I just overheard Yakov’s conversation on the phone. Victor called from Japan saying that he is taking a year off and staying there. He didn’t say why, he just told Yakov there’s something he needs to do there, and Yakov answered that he is worried if Victor leaves now, he won’t be able to ever come back.”

Yuri was furious.

“I am going there and take him back to Russia!”

“You can’t just leave and you certainly can’t fly to Japan! You have the lessons and you have to rehearse! Or do you want to miss your chance to enter the Company next year?”

“I won’t miss it if I leave for a couple of days, just like Victor won’t lose his part in ‘Sleeping Beauty’ by staying in Japan for a week. I am as good as him and I could be even better than him if they'd let me train with the Company!”

Mila didn’t want to fight with him, knowing his character too well, so she let it go, thinking that he couldn’t be serious about his threats to fly to Japan, could he? 

She was contradicted soon after, when she went to practice at the Academy the following day to find out that Yuri wasn’t there.

‘What have you done, Yura!’ she thought to herself, worrying about the little angry boy she had grown so attached to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, finally little Yuri arrives! I'm sorry for keeping you waiting, but it was my version of Victor going to Japan to coach Yuuri (or staying in Japan, in this case) and as much as I wanted for Yuri to be there from the beginning of the Dance Week, I needed it to be that way for the story to progress.   
> Feel free to let me know what you think in the comment or on Tumblr.  
> See you next week with Yuri's POV! I apologize in advance for that, he is the character that is furthest from myself both in personality and in age among them, so I'm finding it really difficult to keep him believable, but I am doing my best, I promise!  
> Thank you again for reading! <3


	7. On name stealing and dance battling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " Yuri walked along the streets of the foreign city for a while, trying to orient himself but his phone wouldn’t work and he couldn’t read the street’s names because they were written in Japanese. He was getting impatient, so he stopped in the middle of a road yelling “Victoooor!!”
> 
> Apparently, the World hated him, because at that precise moment his stupid name-stealer had to be passing by him and hear him. "
> 
> Yuuri and Yuri meet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> As usual, thank you a lot for reading and leaving comments, bookmarks and kudos!! <3 <3  
> In case you haven't noticed, I wrote a little one-shot about Yuuri and Yuri's first meeting in Detroit, that is briefly mentioned in the second chapter. You can find it as the third part of the series, it's called "Russians in Detroit". It's canon for this fic and it may give you a better understanding of my version of Yuri P., so, if you are interested, I recommend you to read it before this chapter, but it's not strictly necessary for the story.  
> It's pretty common but I'm going to point it out to avoid misunderstandings: since in this chapter we have both of them, I'll use 'Yuuri' with two Us for Yuuri Katsuki and Yuri with one U for Yuri Plisetsky. Russians may also address Yuri Plisetsky as Yura or Yuratchka.  
> We are going to get more insight into Phichit's ideas as well as reintroducing little Yuri in the story, so it's going to be an intense chapter, but it'll lack Yuuri's POV which had been a constant in all the previous ones. In the next chapter, the focus will be back on him!

Phichit had always considered himself to be a rather smart person, maybe a little extreme, especially when his popularity on social networks was on the line, but all in all kind. When he heard that Yuuri was leaving their Company to dig himself a hole to hide into in Japanese soil, he just couldn’t let him. Of course, that had to do with his obsession with Victor Nikiforov. Yuuri had spent the major part of his life dealing badly with that and when he had happened to fail his audition in front of the same man, that was the last straw. Anyone who knew him would have read past him and understood that. Fortunately for him, for them both, actually, their Director Celestino Cialdini was also very fond of Yuuri and felt bad for never understanding how deeply Yuuri’s anxiety ran and for not being able to help him.

At first, the all “plan” thing had gone well, Phichit knew that Yuuri liked lists and projects and that if something could work to have him find his motive again, it was the sense of duty he found in having to follow a scheme of some kind, because that gave him the push he needed. Phichit didn’t want to stop there, he wanted to have him come back most of all, sure, but he also wanted to help him understand that he could be better than anyone else, that he already was better even than his precious Victor and that he could stop worshiping him and start to talk to him instead. He wanted Yuuri to realize that he was already Victor’s equal, that he was more than on the same level as him, he was one of the best dancers in the World and yet he always felt like he was not enough, never asking for the main roles and refusing them when they were offered to him, except in Galas or free-time exhibitions. 

The last point on the list was supposed to be going to Italy to watch the Bolshoi’s Gala that was scheduled for the end of the month and use their connections with the representants of the local Theatre and their friends Sara and Michele Crispino to go backstage and meet Victor in person. Of course, that wasn’t necessary anymore. Phichit couldn’t understand how the situation got so out of his control. How had he possibly not considered the chance that Chris’ friend could be Victor himself? The night in a way had been a success, Yuuri had spoken to him, getting his frustration out of his system, maybe a little too harshly than he meant to, but still he was considerably better now, and the way Victor had looked at him while they were dancing and talking was breathtaking. Phichit had never been looked at like that. If he thought about it, he felt a little jealous, but mostly he was thrilled and happy for his friend, for Yuuri to have made such an impression on Victor of all people should be the best thing in his life! So why was he acting like it didn’t happen? Why was he behaving like he didn’t care? Maybe it had been too much for Yuuri to bear and Phichit could understand that, the moment before he was depressed because he had failed to be acknowledged by Victor with his dancing and the moment after he was dancing _with_ Victor smiling at him with an expression that he couldn’t describe with a word different from ‘smitten’. 

He was sure that Yuuri had shut himself in because it had been too much too soon, and it was Phichit’s fault, in part at least, because they would have confronted Victor, but in the right time and in the right way. The night out in his plan was meant to be a moment for relaxing and distracting themselves and in that it had been a complete failure. Everything had turned completely upside down and now he didn’t know what to do. He felt so guilty that when Yuuri asked him not to push on the matter anymore, he promised to do so. 

Now the prospect of going to Italy and meeting Victor had lost his sense and, leaving Italy out, the only thing remaining in the list was to create a choreography for the final exhibition of the Dance Week, then everything would be over. He hoped that it could be enough, but he was beginning to doubt it. He had ruined everything by accepting Chris’ offer to go out with them, but how could he have turned him down? He had always admired Chris, first as a dancer, then even more as a choreographer and, why not, as a man. He let this cloud his judgment, making the exact same mistake he was trying to prevent Yuuri from doing, ruining the plan he was so proud of. It was late now to cry over spilled milk, he would keep going, he would tell Yuuri about the choreography and that would be the end of the project. Then, they could still go to Italy and watch the Bolshoi’s show, even if just for fun.

Only two days remaining, then the final performance. Phichit sobbed, preparing his things for their penultimate day while Yuuri was waking up. He really hoped that it could be enough, he couldn’t stand the thought of Yuuri leaving Ballet for real and shutting himself in in that way.

 

Yuri Plisetsky took the first plane to Japan he could find and only a day after receiving the news that stupid Victor would take a break from the Company, he landed in Tokyo. He hadn’t stop grinding his teeth in frustration and hissing since he left Russia and now he was tired and hurting, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was finding the Convention Center and the Bolshoi’s post and put some sense into the moron’s head.

He walked along the streets of the foreign city for a while, trying to orient himself but his phone wouldn’t work and he couldn’t read the street’s names because they were written in Japanese. He was getting impatient, so he stopped in the middle of a road yelling “Victoooor!!”

Apparently, the World hated him, because at that precise moment his stupid name-stealer had to be passing by him and hear him. Why was he there? Was he attending the Dance Week too?

“Hello. You are Yuri Plisetsky, right?” he asked.

Yuri grumbled in response earning himself a raised brow from the other.

“I presume you are looking for Victor? He should be at the Convention Center. I was just going there before my next lessons, you can come with me if you want.”

“I don’t need your help, pig. I can find it by myself.”

Yuuri got flustered by the insult. He had seen the little Russian lost and made an impromptu decision to offer his help, without thinking about their previous meeting in Moscow. Hearing him shout again now was making it difficult not to remember it. He moved to walk away, apologizing:

“I’m sorry, I saw you by yourself and it seemed like you were having difficulties in finding your way, so I thought you could use some help.”

Yuri suddenly felt his chest tighten for some reason and heard himself answering:

“Stop. Fine. You can help me.”

What? He didn’t want the stupid pig’s help. But it was too late now since he was walking by his side, with embarrassment evident on his face but smiling a little too. Yuri hated it.

They arrived at the Convention Center in silence and Yuuri showed the Russian where he could find the Bolshoi’s post and, presumably, Victor.

“I’m going now, but since Victor is certainly going to be busy, in case you need help again with something you can ask me. I am Japanese by origin so I understand the language well and I’ve already been here for four days, so I know the places.”

Yuri glared at him and replied harshly:

“I know that. What do you want from me? Leave me alone!” 

He realized a moment too late that he just admitted out loud that he had bothered to look up and remember stupid Yuuri’s nationality, but the other said nothing about it.

“I-I… Nothing, I was just trying to be nice.”

“Don’t be. It’s awful.”

“Now now, Yura, there’s no need to be mean.” intervened Victor who heard the conversation and approached them, being immediately deadpanned by both Yuris.

‘What have I done to upset him so much?’ he thought, repressing a sob. Yuuri barely glanced at him after that, his eyes fixated on Yuri instead.

“I remember when we met back in Detroit, you came to watch Midsummer and we talked at the banquet after, yet when I saw you in Russia I was so overwhelmed by the situation that I didn’t recognize you at first, I’m sorry about that.”

Yuri was startled by the statement, was stupid Yuuri trying to use him to mock Victor or something? He turned to watch his senior and found that he was visibly hurting, so he scowled:

“I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but I don’t want to be put in the middle of it!”

Yuuri’s face flushed and he babbled that he didn’t know what Yuri was talking about.

“Sure you don’t” - Yuri continued, frowning - “you just happened to apologize to me in front of Victor for doing the same mistake that he did.”

“W-what? I don’t know what you are talking about!”

“Don’t play dumb with me, I am not stupid! You are talking about the airport, aren’t you?”

‘How do they know about the airport?’ Yuuri thought before answering:

“I wasn’t thinking about that, I’m sorry, I didn’t know that you noticed.”

Yuri was now completely sarcastic.

“Yeah, you certainly ran away from us without a word because you were happy.”

Yuuri didn’t know what to say, he was embarrassed, he hadn’t thought that they could remember the episode, now his apologies looked so lame.

“I didn’t mean to accuse any of you of anything, it’s the truth. I’m sorry. My offer is still valid, if you need anything while you are here at the Dance Week just let me know. Bye.” and he ran away.

Yuri turned pointedly to Victor:

“What’s happening?”

“Um, I don’t know. It’s complicated.” Victor answered absentmindedly, it was the first time Yuuri did something vaguely similar to talk to him after their night at the club and he didn’t know what conclusions to draw from it.

“This is weird.” commented Yuri, watching Yuuri walk away and meet up with his friend.

Yuuri moved towards Phichit, who was already in the room, waiting for him.

“What was that about?” Phichit asked, having seen him talking with the two Russians.

“I met Yuri Plisetsky on my way here, he was lost and looking for Victor and I thought I could offer to help him.”

This was very Yuuri, being nice even to the person that had yelled at him not long before to tell him not to show his face at the next audition. Phichit shook his head with amusement. This was one of the reasons why everyone loved him, even if he was a little naive sometimes.

Yuri shrugged when Victor addressed him again with his stupid cheerful voice:

“By the way hello Yuri! What are you doing here? Did Yakov let you attend the Dance Week? I haven’t seen you around in the past days! When did you arrive?”

“Let’s go, we are returning to Russia!” he said dryly.

“What? No, I can’t go back, I have something important to do here!”

Victor’s expression was thoughtful and Yuri thought it looked even a little sad. He followed his gaze to find that Victor was looking at the stand of an awful Academy where his stupid name-stealer was talking to some other people about surely boring things.

“What is wrong with you? We have that Gala in Italy in two weeks, then we have to start preparing for Sleeping Beauty, you can’t stay here.”

“You always say that you don’t care about the Gala and that you hate Sleeping Beauty already, so why are you interested?”, replied Victor turning to him.

“I don’t care at all! But you promised you would help me prepare for my audition for the Company next year! Have you forgotten? I need you to choreograph something for me so that I can have the best debut ever!”

Victor was dumbfounded. He didn’t remember promising him that, but it did sound like something he could have done. He smiled and winked at him.

‘As if that trick works on me’, Yuri thought.

“I’m sorry, Yuri, I guess I forgot!”

Yuri swore and started yelling at him in a very Yakov-like style, thankfully in Russian, because everyone in the room was watching them. Victor smiled and tried to reassure the people around that there was nothing to worry about. This could be a problem, how could he help both Yuris for the same audition? He couldn’t ask his Yuuri to go to Russia nor little Yuri could stay in Japan or Yakov would kill them both. A shiver ran down his spine at the realization that he just referred to Yuuri as ‘his Yuuri’ in his head, but he put the thought aside to consider later. He definitely needed to find a nickname to at least one of them or this could become very confusing.

“I’ll think of a solution, just give me some time! For now, since you are here why don’t you use my free pass for the classes to enjoy the last two days of the event?”

Yuri grumbled.

“Fine, but you are telling Yakov and Lilia that you are practicing with me in your free time so that they don’t get mad at me.”

Victor chuckled a little. Yuri wanted to show that he didn’t mind, but deep down he didn’t want to have Yakov and Lilia worried about him.

“Of course. I’m calling them immediately and when the event finishes we’ll figure out what to do.”

He took his phone from his pocket and dialed Yakov’s number. The man replied almost instantly:

“What do you want, Vitya, have you changed your mind about leaving the Bolshoi? I am busy right now.”

“Hello, Yakov. No, I haven’t changed my mind. I just wanted to reassure you that Yuri Plisetsky is here. He will train with me until the Dance Week is over and come back in time for the Italian Gala, I’ll help him rehearse, so he will still be able to dance there, I promise.”

“What? Have all of my students lost their mind? First Georgi, then you and now Yuratchka?”

“Don’t worry, Yakov, he will be back soon and he will be ready for the performance.”

“Why do I bother talking to you. Fine, but I’ll have another of our students come to Italy as well and if Yuratchka arrives there and I judge that he is not prepared I will replace him, is it clear?”

“Of course, that won’t be necessary. Thank you, Yakov.”

He closed the call and nodded to Yuri, explaining to him what Yakov said. Yuri complained a little but he seemed content enough. He asked for the keys of Victor’s hotel room and left the building, telling him that he would be back in the afternoon for practice.

 

After their tour of the Convention Center, Phichit and Yuuri moved to the nearby building to attend a meeting about the final show of the Dance Week. Some of the teachers would explain their plans for the following days and then the students could propose their own ideas. After their presentations, the teachers recommended the students who wanted to take part in the choreographies to choose their lessons accordingly, then the representant of the organization asked if someone else wanted to propose something and Phichit raised his hand.

“Hello everyone. I’m Phichit Chulanont, from the Detroit Ballet Company and this is my friend Yuuri. We are going to propose a neo-classical choreography.”

The organizer approved and wrote their names on the list he was holding. 

A couple of others stepped up with ideas of various kinds, then the gathering was dismissed with the representant telling them that the list would be kept by one of the teachers who was acting as the Director for the show and that if someone wanted he could join one of the options by asking him. Phichit hadn’t stopped grinning since their name had been put among them and Yuuri couldn’t help but chuckle at his expression and feel a little excited as well, even if he really hoped that no one else would join their choreography and that he could be alone with Phichit in dancing to it.

 

After setting his things in Victor’s room and resting for a while, Yuri Plisetsky decided to take advantage of Victor’s offer and go to the classes, so as not to get bored waiting for him. He realized he didn’t have many clothes fit for dancing but he managed to dress up in a way that was passable enough with the things he had brought. He asked directions to the receptionist of the hotel and reached the building without troubles. He was still confused about his conversation with stupid Victor and even more so about the stupid Yuuri because something was definitely weird within him. How could he appear out of nowhere and offer to help him? He even apologized for not having realized who he was when Yuri shouted at him in the changing rooms at the Bolshoi! Who did he think he was to act like that? He surely must have had an ulterior motive. Probably trying to use him to reach Victor or something.

Yuri hadn’t bothered looking at the schedule for the event so he simply entered a random class and found it was a Latin American dance. He hated those but anything was better than standing still and waiting, so he went as far back as he could in the room and bore it. At the end of the hour, some people left the room and others entered and another lesson started. Hip-hop this time. 

‘Apparently, I chose the worst room ever.’ Yuri thought as the teacher was beginning to speak:

“If you have already attended this class you’ll know, but I see some new faces, so I’ll tell you again: since ballet dancers always try to fit my moves into their style and I can’t stand it, I want to watch them closely. If any of you is a ballet dancer, please come to the front row and don’t lie because I’ll surely find out later.”

Yuri scowled, but he stepped in the front row nonetheless, only to spot his arch-enemy next to him. He ignored him and Yuuri did the same, clearly being still embarrassed by their earlier conversation.

The lesson started and Yuri found himself unable to follow the steps. His face was red and his eyes narrowed in concentration. Yuuri noticed it and he couldn’t help himself:

“Don’t worry if you don’t get it immediately. If you’ve never done hip-hop it takes some time to get used to the style.”

Yuri gave him a look that could easily have killed him and Yuuri paled in response, turning to the other side immediately where his friend was laughing at him:

“What have you done, Yuuri?”

“I don’t know why he hates me so much, we passed through the same humiliation just three days ago, I was being sympathetic!” Yuuri whispered in response, but his voice wasn’t low enough for Yuri not to hear him.

“If you feel like you are so much better than me that you can give me advice, prove it!”

“W-what?”

“Do the _piéce_ , now.”

The teacher was baffled at first, then he smiled excitedly and stopped the music, telling the class:

“Everyone please, stop practicing, It seems like we are witnessing an interesting challenge. I would never have thought that you ballet dancers could have this verve in you! I like it!”

Yuuri wanted to sink in the floor and Yuri glared at everyone in the room, but the teacher continued, clearly enjoying himself in the tension that was building up:

“We are going to recreate a proper dance battle, I’ll start the music and you’ll do the choreography I just taught. Then, everyone will vote.”

He called out “Five, six, seven, eight!” and pressed the play button. Yuuri was deeply uneasy with how the situation had turned, but he also hated to lose a challenge, so he started the _piéce_. He put everything he had in the steps, even improvising a little more complex moves that he had learned in the previous days at break-dance and hip-hop, earning himself whistles and clapping. That fueled Yuri, though, who summoned all his determination trying not to be outdone, but the more the battle went on, the clearer it was that he couldn’t. Every time he thought he had come up with a good move or an interesting variation to a step, the other beat him again. He had his tongue out and he was breathing hard for the effort and after a while, he gave up.

“Fine, pig, you win. Who cares?”

Yuuri stopped too and everyone cheered and clapped even louder. Yuri put the hood of his sweatshirt on and exited the room. The teacher tried to stop him and call him back without success. Yuuri was panting for the exertion but realizing what had happened, he immediately got worried. From the few glances he had managed to cast his “opponent”, he had thought that he was enjoying himself as well. Apparently, he was too focused on his own movements and he got it wrong. He felt sorry for the teen, but he knew better than to follow him and impose.

 

Yuri walked along the corridor without turning back, with his hands in his pockets and the hood still on. He had had enough of those useless lessons, so he headed towards the cafeteria, where he was supposed to meet up with Victor later. The stupid was already there with his friend Chris.

“Oi, old man, these lessons are awful, can we go practice real dance now?”

Victor chuckled.

“Sure, do you remember Chris, Yuri?”

“Hello, you have grown a lot since the last time I saw you!” Chris greeted and when Yuri ignored him, Victor excused them, saying:

“I’m sorry, he is still a little unsettled from the trip.”

“Don’t worry, I see his personality hasn’t changed at all. See you later.”

Victor nodded in agreement and after saying goodbye he and Yuri left.

“Why are you being so unpleasant? Didn’t you enjoy the lessons?”

“I didn’t check the schedule, so I had to stand Latin American and hip-hop.”

Victor laughed.

“Now I understand, it must have been fun!”

“It wasn’t. They even made me do a dance battle and I was humiliated! Who even does dance battles? Seriously?”

Victor could swear that Yuri was struggling to hide a little smile, but he didn’t inquire further as they moved to the room he had reserved for their rehearsal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it isn't clear due to my poor writing skills, like in the original story, Yuuri is insecure and a little oblivious to people's real thoughts about him, so his actions may seem odd and his perception is unreliable. At the same time Yuri is unable to express himself, but if you read "Russians in Detroit" you may have noticed something about his way to refer to people that conveys his real emotions...  
> I've had some issues in writing the interactions among these two, but it's also been very funny!  
> I hope you enjoyed, please let me know what you think in the comments!  
> See you next week!


	8. The end of the plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " Victor was lost for word. He noticed that Phichit had watery eyes and stuttered:
> 
> “W-what? No, he can’t leave dancing, why would he do that after asking me to help him with next year’s audition for the Bolshoi?”
> 
> Phichit’s eyes widened.
> 
> “Did he?” "
> 
> In which Phichit's plan ends... Or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!  
> This week we are going to have the confrontation we were waiting for, I hope you'll like it!  
> I made a little aesthetic collage for this fic, you can find it here:  
> https://onpointedfeetandbrokendreams.tumblr.com/image/168084308592
> 
>   
> As always, let me know what you think in the comments if you want, I'd really appreciate it!  
> More notes in the end (with spoilers).

For everyone attending the Dance Week, that evening was dedicated to rehearsal for the final performance. Yuuri was waiting in the room the Director had assigned to their choreography when Phichit entered with a worried expression, his hands behind his back. Yuuri knew that face, he was hiding something.

“Is it so bad?” he asked.

“Depends on your definition of bad?” offered Phichit, unconvinced.

“Come on, spit it, Phichit-kun. It can’t be worse than Victor coming to the Dance Week and ruining our plan to forget about him!”

Phichit paled and silently passed a piece of paper over to his friend.

“What is it? The continuation of your list?” asked Yuuri.

“No… It’s the list of the people who applied for our choreography.”

Phichit diverted his gaze, looking everywhere but in his friend’s eyes and scratching the back of his neck in discomfort.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I didn’t even think that he could sign up! I am so _so_ _so_ sorry, Yuuri, what can I do? Do you want me to withdraw our participation?”

“But then we won’t be able to exhibit in the final show at all since we haven’t applied for anything else!”

“I know” sighed Phichit, biting his lower lip. Then, to slightly change the subject he added:

“By the way, Minami called. He asked me to apologize to you for not being able to join. He wanted to but his teacher pointed out that he won’t be able to dance to your choreography since it’s an advanced level of neo-classical ballet.”

Yuuri’s thoughts were clearly still directed elsewhere, but he managed to mumble:

“That was nice of him. Maybe I can call him to thank him, do you think he’d appreciate that?”

Phichit beamed, trying to offer his friend a foothold:

“He would love it!”  


“Hm… Did he tell you what he will do instead?”

“Yes, he told me he and his friends are joining one of the modern dance choreographies, they are doing a boogie. He is excited about it.”

Yuuri nodded but the list in his hand prevented him to completely focus on Phichit’s words, being a physical reminder of his own issues. His breath hitched. This was too much, he couldn’t possibly do it.

 

The morning of the last day, Victor woke up and silently got ready for the day trying not to wake Yuri. The Russian teen was fast asleep on the couch luckily present in his room because he had refused to find himself somewhere else to stay. Victor shut the door leaving the keys inside, hoping that Yuri would understand the message and take them.

Once in the cafeteria, he found Chris, ordered his breakfast and sat on the table next to him. Chris winked and smiled mischievously.

“Good morning Victor! So, how was rehearsal last night?”

Victor ignored the question and just whined in response:

“Chris, do you think he likes little Yura?”

“What?? How did you come up with that? He was obviously head over heels for you the other day when you danced!”

“I thought so, too! Now I’m not sure anymore. You mocked me using Phichit’s claim that Yuuri’s type is a dancer, blond and with light eyes, but don’t you think that description fits Yura, too?”

Chris raised a brow and Victor sobbed, leaning his head on his folded forearms.

“I am having a sense of deja-vu”, commented Chris looking at him.

“Everyone can’t seem to stop talking about this dance battle they had during the hip-hop lesson because they had an - and I quote - ‘amazing chemistry’, and were ‘each bringing out the best in the other’, it was ‘unbelievable that they are actually Ballet dancers’. Yura won’t talk to me about it but he was actually _smiling_ when he exited the class, I saw him! And Yuuri talks to him, while he keeps ignoring me. They arrived together at the Convention Center, maybe he even picked him up at the airport! He mentioned something happened between them back in Moscow, what if they are already together without us knowing it? He danced with me when he was drunk because I reminded him of Yura, but he doesn’t like me because I’m too old.”

Chris almost choked on his coffee.

“You reminded him of Yura, seriously? Vee, I think you are being delusional. Please, go talk to him. For your mental health, if not for anything else.”

“I _tried_ to talk to him! He doesn’t even say hello!”

“Look, here is your chance. If you don’t go and talk to him, I will, and you won’t like it.”

Chris pointed to a table at the other side of the room, where Phichit and Yuuri had just sat.

Vicor tried to wave at him but Yuuri tensed and turned to the cup of tea in front of him.

“See??” commented Victor, frustrated.

“I’ve had enough of you two. I’m going.” replied Chris as he walked past Victor and towards Yuuri.

“Hello, Chris.” greeted Phichit with a cheerful voice.

“Hi. Yuuri, can I talk to you for a moment?”

Yuuri frowned.

“Um, yes? I suppose.”

“Are you dating little Yuri Plisetsky?”

“Eh?” answered Yuuri in shock.

At the same time, Victor hid his flushed face deeper in his arms and Phichit burst out laughing.

“I take that as a no, thank you.” he smiled and returned to Victor.

“He said that he is not dating Yuri.”

“You should have been more subtle!” complained Victor, without leaving his safe spot under his forearms.

“I told you that if I had gone you wouldn’t have liked it.”

“Why are we friends, Chris?”

“You break my heart, Victor! Obviously, because I am gorgeous and you love me!”

Victor glared at him but then they both chuckled.

“Fine. You are right. I was being ridiculous.” said Victor after he had calmed down. Chris agreed:

“You totally were. But my suggestion is still valid, you really need to talk to him before tomorrow or he will go back to Detroit and you’ll do what, exactly? Return to Russia and hope to meet him again in the future somewhere?”

Victor gasped, he hadn’t thought about that.

“You are right, he is probably going back to Detroit! I can’t follow him there!”

“Of course you can’t. You weren’t planning on stalking him to his house in Japan, were you?”

Victor lowered his voice, glancing at Yuuri and Phichit to make sure they weren’t listening to the conversation:

“Well, he did invite me, when he asked me to be his coach for the audition?”

“And how do you know where he lives?”

“I may or may not have Googled his name and find out that sometimes he helps his parents in the Hotel they own in a little town called Hasetsu.” he whispered sheepishly.

“You didn’t.”

“Look, the plan was to ask him for more details about how he wanted to move forward in the following days, but in case you haven’t noticed, he is not talking to me!”

Chris passed one of his hands over his eyes, then his expression became steady.

“Don’t go there, nor in Detroit without speaking to him before. I know how much you love the idea of surprising people and that you tend to be impulsive. But if you pop up at his house without a previous notice, you’ll scare him to death.”

Victor’s ears and nose were a dark shade of pink as he replied with a tentative voice:

“I already called the Bolshoi telling that I won’t go back. It sounded like a good idea! And I would have a previous notice since he asked me to go and help him!”

Chris shook his head.

“Victor, I’m serious, don’t. Not without telling him first.”

“But it would be soo romantic! I will knock on his door and announce him that I have come to answer his call and make him pass the audition for the Bolshoi. Then we will go to Russia together. Chris, he dances so soulfully, I am the only one who can create a choreography in which he could show his true beauty.”

Victor’s voice was more high-pitched now and his smile was getting the shape of a heart just thinking about the prospect. Chris sighed and tried to pull him back to reality by calling him:

“Vee?”

“What?”

“You are hopeless. But I’ve never seen you smile like that before.”

Victor startled a little, then smiled again. It was probably true.

 

Needless to say, Yuuri was still stunned and couldn’t say a word, nor breathe properly until Victor and Chris left. Phichit dried his eyes with the back of his hand and smirked at his friend:

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

“I really don’t know what Chris was talking about! You’ve seen how Yuri Plisetsky treats me, how did he even consider the idea that we could be dating!”

Phichit thought that it had probably very little to do with Chris, but he said nothing, remembering his promise. He sighed, returning to their previous subject:

“So, about your choreography, what do you want to do?”

Yuuri visibly tensed, then shrugged:

“I suppose that we’ll need to go on as planned. You knew perfectly well that I would have struggled with creating a choreography and teaching it to someone else since I tend not to have much trust in myself, but we started it anyway, so... At first, it’s actually been pretty fun, too. We... do our best and hope?”

“I feel like my plan is cursed. It was already hard enough, we didn’t need additional complications! I’m sorry, Yuuri. How can I make it up to you?”

Yuuri offered him a reassuring smile and spoke with a soft voice:

“It’s not your fault, Phichit-kun. I think your plan was a good idea, you know? We may have had some incidents, but it really got me to make peace with dancing, after all.”

“But you are still leaving the Detroit Ballet, aren’t you?”

Yuuri nodded.

“Yes, I am. I’m glad that I’ll be able to part on a happy note and I have to thank you for that, but there’s nothing else for me there. This is the reason why I can face this choreography even with all those people and even with _him_ , it’s going to be my goodbye.”

It wasn’t unexpected for Phichit to hear it, but that didn’t mean that he was happy about it. Though, Yuuri seemed so calm and peaceful, a completely different person from the nervous wreck he found in Hasetsu a couple of weeks prior. He dried a single tear from his eye, this time not caused by laughing and replied:

“I’m glad that I helped you in a way, even if this is not exactly what I meant to obtain with my plan. I don’t want to dance without you!”

“I know, I’ll miss it, too. We can still dance in my banquet room whenever you come to visit, and I’ll come see you in Detroit or in Thailand!”

“I think so.”

Then, Yuuri hugged him and Phichit froze. It wasn’t the first time they hugged, but it was never Yuuri to initiate a contact like that. He melted into the gesture and smiled.

“Fine, if this is what you want and you are pleased with your decision I’ll let you go. Don’t be a stranger.”

“I promise, neither do you!”

They stayed there for a while, then they parted and walked towards their lessons and rehearsal for the last time.

 

Being the last day and since most of the lessons focused on preparations for the final show, Yuri spent his time in the solitary room that Victor had booked for them, doing some exercises and going over his _piéce_ for the Italian Gala a couple of times.

In the afternoon Victor joined him to supervise his training like he promised Yakov.

“Are you sure you don’t want to dance in the final show? I could pull some strings to have them let you in even if you are not legally registered.”, he asked during a break while they were catching their breath.

“Ah? No way. I only attended two lessons and they were awful! And I certainly don’t want to learn the choreography of a stupid random dancer like you are doing. I’m surprised that they even let you take part in it.”

“Why? My contract explicitly says that I can attend the Dance Week’s events while I’m not busy with other obligations. The final show counts, too.”

“I guess.”, Yuri mumbled before diverting his gaze and asking, looking more than a little abashed:

“Victor… Could you teach me the choreography?”

Victor had a hard time trying not to comment on that and couldn’t suppress the knowing look in time. The teen immediately got defensive and blurted out:

“Never mind, it was just out of curiosity, I don’t care at all.”

Victor smiled at him affectionately, despite his little crisis in the morning, he couldn’t be hostile towards Yuri out of jealousy. He knew that the continuous scowling and the angry attitude were his ways to hide his feelings, not his true nature, exactly like Victor’s always cheerful expression and the need to impress others were his. Victor had known Yuri for a very long time and he had always tried to be there for him and to understand him, knowing how much he was suffering due to his parents’ disapproval of his life choices. They had always been more similar to one another than anyone thought they were and now they were even united in the admiration of another dancer. If Yuri was loosening his carefully constructed barriers to ask for this little thing, he couldn’t deny him.

“What about this: there’s the eventuality that tomorrow lots of people would come asking about the Bolshoi before the show and I can’t make it in time. Can you learn my part of the performance to replace me in case of need?”

There was a glint in Yuri’s eyes that didn’t go unnoticed on Victor’s part, but he pretended to be fouled by the fake patronizing expression that his junior put on a moment later to answer:

“Fine. But let’s make it clear that I’m learning it just because I don’t want the show to be ruined by your incompetence.”

Victor grinned. 

“Of course.”

 

That night, when they headed to rehearsal, the feeling of finality and closure that had settled on Yuuri in the morning hadn’t left. He knew that he should be anxious about a million things, but the sense of peace that the decision had brought him wouldn’t leave. He smiled to the people gathered in the room and even greeted them happily one by one, much to their surprise, since the previous day he had been cold and detached.

One of them, in particular, seemed lost. His blue eyes searching the brown in front of him for clues. When he couldn’t take it anymore he called Phichit aside, he had ignored this for too long and now everything was just becoming weirder.

“Hello, Phichit, do you have a moment?”

Phichit looked over at Yuuri to silently ask for permission, but the latter didn’t notice, being busy talking with one of the dancers about some steps of the choreography.

“Um yes, hello Victor. What is it?”

Victor took a deep breath. He hadn’t really talked to Phichit before, since the only time they had been together somewhere he had been stuck to Yuuri all the time and the previous day at rehearsal he and Yuuri had both done their best to ignore him.

“I won’t ask you why Yuuri is avoiding me because I don’t want to put you in a tough spot, but can you at least tell me if something happened? Is he ok? He is so different today.”

Phichit sighed and lowered his voice.

“I really can’t talk to you of all people about this. Though, I understand that you might be confused. Even if you’d ask me about why he is avoiding you I couldn’t tell you because I don’t know. He refuses to speak about the matter and he has made me promise not to push him. What I can tell you is that he is different today because he made his decision to quit dancing officially and he is feeling like he doesn’t have any pressure anymore. I wish I could have seen him like this more often for different reasons, he used to be so nervous before the performances and he could never be at his best. I think tomorrow we are going to see something amazing.”

Victor was lost for words. He noticed that Phichit had watery eyes and stuttered:

“W-what? No, he can’t leave dancing, why would he do that after asking me to help him with next year’s audition for the Bolshoi?”

Phichit’s eyes widened.

“Did he?”

“Yes, I thought… Didn’t he tell you?”

“No, he has never spoken about that night.”

“I don’t understand, Phichit.” Victor pouted, with two lone tears welled up in his eyes. The image was a very far cry from the one of the 27 years old World’s Best Dancer that Phichit had in his mind and he smiled at him with a different fondness. He was about to tell him that he was feeling in a similar way and that he was glad that he cared when it hit him. It was _the_ Victor Nikiforov speaking. He found himself stating, with great cleverness:

“You are Victor Nikiforov.”

Victor blinked before answering with an amused expression:

“I am?”

“No, I mean… You, me, later. We need to talk. Meet me at the hotel after rehearsal.” he turned to walk back to the center of the room, then he added:

“Are you staying at the same hotel as the ordinary participants?” 

Victor chuckled.

“Yes, but I do have a suite. I’ll see you in the Hall?”

Phichit nodded, maybe there was still hope.

Yuuri watched the two returning together from a corner of the room with an inquiring expression, then shrugged and looked at the others. There were a total of eight people, including three girls and two boys who had shared classes with Yuuri during the week, Yuuri, Victor and Phichit. Why Victor would have signed up for his choreography was something that Yuuri couldn’t quite grasp. He probably wanted something simple and that didn’t require attendance at the lessons since in the morning he was usually busy at the Convention Center and in the afternoon there were few options for classical dance.

“Maybe mine was the only neo-classical choreography?” He had asked Phichit when the latter had shown him the list, but Phichit didn’t know if that was the case. It would have made sense. Still, he couldn’t believe it. Whatever the reason, he was about to teach Victor Nikiforov a choreography and then he was going to _dance on the same stage as him_. He wanted to scream, cry, laugh and then die because it was impossible, come on, he couldn’t do that! Someone was definitely be kidding him.

He had tried not to dwell too much on it because there were five more people to worry about. He had kept himself as clinical as possible to steady himself but there was no way around the panic that built up in his guts along with the littlest surge of pride. Today things were different. 

“If no one has any further questions, let’s give it a try, okay?” he said and at their positive response, he started the music, positioning himself next to Phichit in the center. Yuuri had tried to convince Phichit that he’d rather leave the front position to _someone else_ , but he had insisted that it was his choreography and that he deserved to be there. He had relented, if nothing else, to avoid being blackmailed by his friend later. 

This wasn’t exactly how he wanted to realize his dream, but it was his last chance and he intended to take it. All in all, he was glad that things had turned out this way, the week had been a whirlwind of emotions and uncomfortable situations, but he couldn’t have been so sure about his choice to retire for good if he hadn’t got this opportunity. Now he could really leave without regrets, the only thing he needed to do was overcome his anxieties for a day. Just one day and he would realize his dream, then, either way, he would go home and he wouldn’t have to worry about being good enough for a performance ever again. 

He relaxed into the music, putting his heart in every movement and spinning around the room. He had imagined the choreography for a long time, since the first moment he saw Victor dance to that song. It was an original composition he had had someone do for one of his own _piéces_ , a sad melody talking about a person who had been abandoned and found new hope in love. Victor’s choreography had conveyed the image of love as an abstract idea to pursue, while Yuuri’s talked about longing for an impossible love. He had found a rearrangement of the melody with piano chords instead of violins that rendered the ensemble simpler and more somber and he loved it. He had been more than a little embarrassed at the idea of using that song when Victor himself would be dancing to the choreography, but on such a short notice he couldn’t create another _piéce_ and the moves were planned to fit that music perfectly, so simply changing the song wasn’t an option either. He hoped that Victor wouldn’t be offended by his choice but after all, no one had forced him to sign up, he could simply leave and do something else if he didn’t like it. The first time he played the music for the others to listen he had locked eyes for a moment with Victor, blushing furiously. Victor had widened his eyes in surprise but said nothing.

With a new confidence, he took his final pose and hold it for a moment, before thanking everyone and asking them to go over some parts again.

Victor had been taken aback by the choice of his own music for the _piéce_ , but he hadn’t commented on it because he was afraid it would get Yuuri even more upset at him. Now, though, seeing him dance so passionately to his song was making his heart melt. He was in awe, he had turned to the wrong direction more times than he was comfortable to admit because he couldn’t look away from Yuuri.

‘So this is how he dances when he isn’t anxious? Wow.’ he thought.

He tried to focus, he needed to be at his best if he didn’t want to let him down, he couldn’t ruin his choreography, no matter the reason.

They kept rehearsing the _piéce_ for another hour, then Phichit winked at Victor, mouthing: ‘Remember, later’ and left with Yuuri. Victor nodded. He was still utterly confused about the entire situation, but hopefully, at least Yuuri’s friend wasn’t against him. He couldn’t wait to hear what Phichit could tell him and even more so he was looking forward to the following day, when he would get the opportunity to dance on the same stage as Yuuri and play his role to show everyone how amazing the man was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It broke my heart to actually write the scene of Yuuri declaring that the plan ended and that he will officially quit dancing, but there is still hope! Could Phichit and Victor together figure out the misunderstanding?  
> As you have probably guessed, the song they are talking about is "Stay Close to Me" from the original soundtrack of the anime. Victor's version is the one he uses for the free skate in the first episode, while Yuuri's piano re-arrangement is inspired by his exhibition skate, minus Victor's part, so imagine that it goes on like in the first verse without adding the violins.  
> In the next chapter, we'll actually "see" Yuuri's choreography and I can't wait! I hope I won't bore you with the description of the dance, but it is important for the story.  
> The idea of the final show comes from something we used to do at my old Ballet school, it was a day in which the school rented the Theatre and everyone who wanted, teachers and students alike, could propose a choreographic piece of some kind and others could join. It was one of my favorite days of the year because being free and without pressure, it let even insecure and shy people like me put themselves out there and express themselves, so I needed Yuuri to have this moment.  
> Thank you for reading!  
> I am also on Tumblr if you want to ask anything. See you next week!


	9. Stay Close to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " Yuuri swallowed and started walking, every step harder than the previous one but more meaningful. He put his hands in his pockets to stop them from shaking. When he reached the silver-haired man at the bar he cleared his throat and spoke:  
> “Hello, Victor. I’m sorry to interrupt you, if you don’t mind I would like to tell you something.”  
> Despite his best efforts, his voice sounded small. Victor stopped immediately and turned around, his eyes wide as he breathed:  
> “Hi! Yes, whatever you want.” "
> 
> \--
> 
> Where we have... Not the meeting that we were expecting!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello!!  
> Sorry for the week break, I've been very busy and since this chapter is a really intense one I didn't want to rush it!  
> Thank you to everyone who left Kudos or commented, you always make my day <3  
> I won't say anything about the chapter to avoid spoiling too much but, as you know, there is going to be the dance scene... I tried not to be too technical and not to dwell too much on the name of the steps but more on the general image of the performance and on the emotions. I hope it'll make sense and it won't bore you too much, I promise it's not too long.  
> Like for Chris' piece, the choreography is mine, I had so much fun in creating it and rehearsing the various parts so I hope you'll like it.  
> Tiny little warning to remember to check the tags, in case you are uncomfortable with some topics.

Phichit and Yuuri entered the Hall of their hotel a couple of hours later. Victor was sitting at the counter, absentmindedly having a drink and chatting in English with the bartender. Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat.

“Phichit, would you mind going ahead? I’ll catch up with you soon.” he asked.

Phichit looked at him, then at Victor, then at him again.

“I-You… Um… Ok, sure.” 

He slowly moved towards the lifts, trying without success to make eye contact with Victor who was oblivious to their presence.

Yuuri swallowed and started walking, every step harder than the previous one but more meaningful. He put his hands in his pockets to stop them from shaking. When he reached the silver-haired man at the bar he cleared his throat and spoke:

“Hello, Victor. I’m sorry to interrupt you, if you don’t mind I would like to tell you something.”

Despite his best efforts his voice sounded small. Victor stopped immediately and turned around, his eyes wide as he breathed:

“Hi! Yes, whatever you want.”

Yuuri’s heart almost stopped beating. He pursued his lips to steady himself and repeated in his mind that it was his only chance and that he needed to do this because in two days he would no longer be a dancer at all.

“I don’t know why you decided to do my choreography for the final show instead of proposing one of your own or choosing a better one. Maybe you just wanted something that requested a low effort or mine was the only neo-classical _piéce_ among the ones that didn’t require going to the lessons? Either way, I wanted to thank you. It’s a great honor for me.”

He bowed slightly but found his head being lifted again immediately after by a hand under his chin. He blushed deeply, finding his eyes centimeters apart from the ones of his idol.

“No. It’s me who has to thank you for giving my song a new life and giving me this opportunity to dance to it. I really love your choreography. I’m sorry if I did something wrong in the past days, you never talked to me after we danced together.”

Yuuri tried his best not to falter and shook his head slightly.  
  
“I know. I’m sorry. No, you did nothing wrong.”

“Then why won’t you even say hello to me? Do you want us to go back to being strangers? Or what do you want me to be to you?”

Victor gently let go of Yuuri’s face and smiled at him, hoping that his voice didn’t sound too pleading, but Yuuri looked the other way as soon as he could and he answered:

“I don’t want you to be anything to me.”

It was like a punch in Victor’s chest. He whispered:

“I see. I’m sorry if I bothered you, then.” 

Yuuri startled. _Victor_ was afraid of having bothered _him_? And why did he sound so sad? He glanced at him and saw that his smile had completely disappeared.

“You didn’t… I… I don’t want you to be anything to me because I just want you to be Victor. I’ve always admired you and I was afraid of talking to you for real because I didn’t want you to see my shortcomings.”

The words ‘I just want you to be Victor’ resonated in his mind and he lit up, while a redness spread from his hears to his nose.

“I think I can do that.”

Yuuri hesitantly looked up and Victor winked at him, adding:

“Then, if I, for ‘just being Victor’, want to talk to you, can I do that?”

“I think so.”

“Great! Let’s have a fresh start and get to know each other! What do you want to do? Do you want to go somewhere? Have a drink with me?”

Yuuri thought that there was not so much to erase in their past, but maybe Victor was referring to Yuuri’s admiration for him? Did that mean that he wanted to be known as Victor the human instead of Victor the World’s Best Dancer? Yuuri felt something warm in his chest. If it was for this reason, perhaps he could do that. But could he let Victor know _him_ in return? Could he bear it?

“I… have to focus on the dance for tomorrow. I have to go. Thank you again.”

Victor felt like the floor had opened up under him. He thought that they had been making progress, what did he say wrong?

“Anytime. Goodnight, _Yuuri_.”

Yuuri shivered at the sound of his name, but nodded and mumbling a “Goodnight” in response he left.

Victor sighed. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and lazily looked at his Instagram feed to distract himself while waiting for Phichit. A couple of minutes later the phone pinged with the notification of a private message.

 **phichit+chu:** Been held back. Sorry. Can we talk tomorrow?

So even Phichit was shutting him out. He tapped on the name to open his profile page and found an amazing series of pictures of him and Yuuri. He started scrolling until he reached something that appeared to be a very old post, probably from one of Yuuri’s first performances at the Detroit Ballet. He was cute, in his practice clothes, his cheeks an adorable shade of red and his eyes glassy and wide open but the thing that caught his attention the most was his hand, in which Yuuri was holding a poster portraying Victor like it was a lucky charm. He hardly refrained from commenting it with a string of heart emojis and, trying not to like any post because they were way too old to have appeared on his feed by chance and it would have given him away, he returned to Phichit’s message a little reassured.

 **v_nikiforov:** Sure. Is everything ok?

_**phichit+chu** is writing_  
_**phichit+chu** has stopped writing_  
_**phichit+chu** is writing_  
_**phichit+chu** has stopped writing_  
_**phichit+chu** is writing_  
_**phichit+chu** has stopped writing_  
_**phichit+chu** is writing_

**phichit+chu:** Yes.

Okay, that was weird. He waited for a neverending minute for Phichit to write something else, but nothing happened.

 **v_nikiforov:** ?

Phichit didn’t answer. He got a little worried, but he also didn’t want to impose, so he paid his bill and left the bar. 

He was welcomed into his room by a very annoyed Yuri Plisetsky:

“You are late.”

“I’m not. I texted you that I would have been downstairs with a friend from rehearsal.”

“Tch.”

“What?”

Yuri looked away to fake disinterest and he asked making air quotes with his fingers:

“So? How did it go? With your _friend from rehearsal_?”

“Oh. I’m not sure. I think I upset him for some reason, but I don’t know why so I don’t know what to do.” 

Victor was surprised to hear himself confide that, he hadn’t meant to do it.

“Of course you upset him, you are a moron!” commented the younger Russian.

Victor looked at him for a while, lost in thoughts, then he decided to ignore the comment and get ready to sleep. The day after was going to be a very busy one.

Yuri scowled:

“Are you not going to do anything because you don’t know what to do??”

“They are not answering my texts and they are locked up in their room, I don’t have any other choice! Besides, I’m going to see them tomorrow morning. Why do you care so much?”

Yuri glared at him, then shrugged and took his place on the couch, doing his best to occupy as much space as he could. He mumbled:

“Whatever.”

Victor laid on his bed and contemplated the ceiling. Maybe Yura was right, he was being stupid. He had hoped to find a point of contact with Yuuri, but he had slipped up again. Was it because he had talked about having a drink? It must have been that. Yuuri was embarrassed by the memory of his drunken night and he ran away. Victor punched himself, what a bad choice of words, he didn’t mean anything like that, it was just the first thing that came to his mind. Maybe he should just give up, clearly, their night out didn’t mean so much for Yuuri as it did for him. On the other hand, if that was the case, what could Phichit want to talk to him about? Not that it mattered now since even he had canceled on Victor soon after. He suppressed a sob and turned on his side.

 

Yuuri was taking ragged breaths, his face was flushed and he was clutching the sheets of his bed so tightly that they were about to rip. He had barely managed to shut the room’s door behind himself before the attack began and it was getting worse. Phichit’s heart broke a little at the sight.

“Yuuri, Yuuri, please, I need you to calm down and breathe. Tell me the names of the streets you cross from our apartment in Detroit to the Theatre.”

Yuuri opened his mouth to talk but no sound escaped his lips. He shook his head and looked at Phichit with his eyes full of tears. Phichit had tried everything he read about on the Internet and he had also nearly asked Victor Nikiforov to come help him, before realizing that Yuuri would have killed him for letting his idol seeing him like that. He had been able to help little Minami, why wasn’t it working now? He reached out to touch him for comfort, then he stopped, remembering to himself that he was not Mari and that it was better not to go too much near Yuuri if you weren’t his sister in this moment. Desperately, Phichit sat on the bed a few centimeters from him and started to talk in a soothing voice, letting the words flow:

“You were doing so great! You even corrected his posture! Can you imagine it? I should have made a gif out of it for the future, tagging ‘Yuuri corrects _the_ Victor Nikiforov his posture’! I promise you that tomorrow the performance is going to be amazing. We all love your choreography and we all love dancing to it, especially him, it’s pretty clear by now! If you don’t believe it, I’ll make him tell you as soon as I see him. It’s going to be your big day and I know that you must be feeling a lot of pressure, but I thought that you were dealing with it fine, what changed? I wish I had stayed with you, is it for something that he said? Or is it like that time in Hasetsu? But see how far you have come! You always talked about dancing on the same stage as him and now you are going to do just that and to a choreography of yours even! You should be very proud, very happy! Can’t you see how amazing you are and how much everyone admires you? I sure do!”

He kept blurting things out, remembering episodes from their time in Detroit and repeating over and over how proud Yuuri should be and recalling every one of his or their past successes, hoping to give him a little confidence. He could see that Yuuri’s eyes were getting more focused as he spoke and that he was easing his grip on the blankets and taking deep breaths. 

Phichit offered his hand this time and Yuuri willingly took it.

“Thank you, Phichit, for what you said.”

“You are welcome. Every word was true.”

Yuuri just nodded with the faint hint of a smile through his tears. He was too tired to disagree with any of the words Phichit had said, they could figure things out in the morning. He fell asleep without even leaving Phichit’s hand, so Phichit made a little space for himself on the bed, trying not to wake him.

When the morning came, they had let go of the hand and were facing each other from the opposite sides of the mattress. Yuuri smiled sheepishly.

“I don’t know how you put up with me.”

Phichit shook his head, returning the smile reassuringly:

“You are my best friend. You would do the same.”

“Yes, I would. But I appreciate it a lot, anyway. I’m going to offer you the biggest breakfast you’ve ever seen.”

Phichit chuckled and replied:

“Good. I love breakfasts.”

They prepared for the day and left the hotel to find a more suitable place. The night had been exhausting, the mixture of emotions that Yuuri had been carrying all week had intensified and burst out when he had tried to open up with none other than Victor Nikiforov. He had completely overstepped during their conversation, thinking for a second that the man was showing him _vulnerability_. He must have misunderstood, there was no way that Victor Nikiforov might really want to get someone like Yuuri to know him as the human behind the public image of the dancer. He took a deep breath in the morning sun. In the end, letting it all out, even if not in the best way, had made him feel better.

 

The time for the show arrived sooner than they expected. They had spent the day practicing and now they were in the Theatre, dressed up for the performance and waiting for their turn. Yuuri had made them dress simply, blue tights, black shirt and blue jacket for everyone, with just a light make-up over their eyes. Their hair was slicked back and tied up in a bun if long enough. And Victor was desperate. He wanted to be enthusiast about the dancing, but he hadn’t been able to talk to Phichit all day because it seemed like he and Yuuri were glued to each other. It was driving him crazy. What if Phichit didn’t want to talk to him anymore? Should he just renounce? But if he did that, could he go back to Russia?

“Victor. It’s time to go.” a tentative voice asked from behind the door of the small room in the backstage where he was finishing to get ready.

No, he definitely couldn’t go back to Russia, nor he could renounce. He took a deep breath and opened it, smiling at the dancer in front of him. Maybe he just needed to change tactic. Yuuri was ignoring him? Good, he would make it impossible.

“Hello, Yuuri!” he purred.

Yuuri paled.

“Hi.”

“I’m looking forward to the part when we are going to dance together.” continued Victor in a cheerful voice, reaching out to lightly touch Yuuri’s cheek with his fingers.

“R-really?? Um, me too?”

“Would you like to do something after the show? Go eating somewhere? Have a walk around Tokyo? I haven’t been able to visit anything while I was here! At what time does your plane leave?”

He made sure not to mention anything regarding drinking alcohol of any kind and he did his best to hide his desperation, but the words sounded hectic. He put his left index on his bottom lip to hide the fact that he was biting it in concern.

Yuuri was stuck. What was happening? He decided to answer only the easiest of the questions:

“We are leaving tonight at ten.”

Victor almost let ‘for Hasetsu or Detroit?’ slip, but he thought better of it, not wanting to scare Yuuri. He returned to his previous task, instead. 

“We’ll have time then! What do you want to do? Can I offer you a coffee? Or a tea if you prefer?”

Yuuri heard someone answering with his voice:

“Ok.”

Then he realized what he had just said and covering his mouth with his hands he ran away.

Victor just called out:

“Good, I’ll see you after the performance!”

 

Yuuri couldn’t believe himself, what had he done? Had he really just accepted Victor’s offer to buy him some tea? Even after the night before? Even knowing that the show he was about to perform was going to be the most overwhelming of his entire life? He stumbled upon Phichit on his way to the stage.

“Yuuri, have you seen a ghost? You are not having another anxiety attack, are you?”, Phichit asked, seeing his pale face, but Yuuri reassured him:

“No, no I’m fine. Well, I’m worried about the performance, but… I mean… in a positive way?”

“That’s good! What happened? Are you hurt? Why are you touching your cheek?”

Yuuri hadn’t realized that he was idly caressing his skin in the place where Victor’s finger had been a moment prior and he moved his hand away immediately, embarrassed.

“Nothing. No. It’s ok.”

Phichit saw that his mood was lighter, so he took a deep relieved breath, then he put on a devilish smile and pushed on:

“Yuuri? We slept together hand in hand, you can’t hide anything from me! Tell me what happened.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes.

“How long are you going to use that against me! I was suffering!”

“Foreeeever!”

Yuuri laughed, then, with his head up and a smirk he didn’t know he could put on he answered:

“Fine. I’ll tell you. After the show I’m going out with _the_ Victor Nikiforov.”

Phichit gaped. More because he admired the confidence with which Yuuri had voiced that sentence than for the surprise.

“Finally! It was about time you stopped holding that grudge against him for who knows what reason!”

Yuuri gave him a puzzled look.

“I don’t know but, I mean, he asked me explicitly and by now I have nothing to lose. Maybe he really likes my choreography, as you said. He told me that he appreciates that someone has given his music a new life. I know that he is just being nice to a fan of his, but I am happy to have this chance to talk to him, nonetheless.”

‘Still in denial, then’, considered Phichit. At least now they would talk, maybe his mediation wouldn’t be necessary, after all. He decided to step back and wait, letting them stew for another day, and to get his phone ready for taking lots of pictures. He wondered if he should call Chris.

“If you need anything send me your position and I’ll be there in a moment, ok?”

Yuuri smiled fondly at him.

“Thank you, Phichit-kun. I can manage one day, I promise.”

“Ok, now, take a deep breath, we are next.”

“I know. Let’s go!”

They entered the stage and took their position. Victor locked eyes with him for a moment and murmured a “Good luck”. Yuuri nodded and closed his eyes to cherish the moment and waited for the music to start. He was ready.

At first, it was just him and Phichit in the center of the stage moving. Yuuri passed his right hand behind his head and reached forward, his arm elongated and his eyes full of sorrow, just before his finger could reach him, Phichit stepped back starting a _manège_ of _pirouéttes_ with Yuuri right behind him doing the same steps but every time just a fraction of a second late and out of sync with the music. The oddity of the image increased the sense of something unattainable within the viewer. When they arrived at the back of the stage, Yuuri stopped and kneeled to the floor reaching out again with his arms while the lyrics began. That signaled also the other dancers’ entrance. They stepped onto the stage, two from the front row carrying two long pieces of deep blue cloth behind themselves, two from the center and two behind Yuuri. He raised on his feet and lifted his leg in a slow and perfect _arabesque_ with his head lightly dipped backward. Phichit joined the line on the left, while they danced towards the center, the two in the front putting their arms in fifth position and bent forward, creating two waves that converged on the center, where Yuuri was now in fifth position himself, his head still high. It looked like they were about to crash him, but then he started spinning and they moved, too, rolling up themselves in the cloth until they were freed by the others. They unfolded the fabric and, holding them from different points, they moved across the stage to create an evolving maze in which they danced, jumping and walking, always keeping Yuuri in the middle, who eventually would cling to the tapes in his movements. When the music lowered before the chorus, everyone stopped and let the maze fall.

_Stammi vicino, non te ne andare  
Ho paura di perderti _

They all danced in unison. They raised their leg to the side and brought it backwards keeping it high, _relevé_ , then a fall ahead to enter a slow _pirouétte_ with their arms bent backwards like they were wings and then another reaching to a point higher, like before, just out of their touch.

They walked to form four pairs, one in each corner and they danced together in a circle, Yuuri and Phichit doing opposite movements but away from one another. Yuuri was in the back corner with Victor, who had volunteered for that role, while Phichit was in the front on the other side of the stage. The people directed to the center bent their backs in a _cambré_ then moved behind their partners to hold them in a _penché_ , before changing again and let themselves be carried in a sequence of spins towards the center where they briefly met and held a pose for a few seconds. As the music neared his end, they walked out of the stage, leaving only Yuuri in the center, with his head bowed and his arms abandoned to his sides.

The lights turned on and everyone entered the stage again to bow, then the curtains closed. Yuuri was crying, emotions overflowing freely. He hugged and thanked everyone for taking part in his choreography, then jumped on Phichit, who patted his head affectionately, crying in turn and repeating:

“We have been amazing, Yuuri! You did it! You did it! Thank you!”

Victor watched them from a little afar, not wanting to interrupt the moment. He had been the only one not to be hugged and he had pouted a little at first but, watching Yuuri crying happy tears after a moving and wonderful performance, he realized that he had never felt so proud and happy for any of his own shows. Not for the first time nor the last he wondered how a person that he barely knew could give him such strong emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we didn't have the conversation between Phichit and Victor that we were expecting but I hope we had a better one?  
> I'm really really sorry for having Yuuri suffering again, I won't do it anymore, we are getting to the good part now!!  
> I kind of want to write about the first day of rehearsal, I decided to cut it from the chapter because I wanted to make it a surprise for a little longer that Victor had joined the choreography, so maybe next week I'll post the cut scene instead or in addition to the chapter but I haven't made up my mind, yet because I'm also looking forward to showing you The Date.  
> In any case, see you next week!  
> Feel free to comment and tell me what you think about the chapter or the story, I'll love to hear your opinions!! Thank you for reading <3


	10. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " Yuuri blinked in confusion. That day was turning out to be an unending chain of impossible events and he was dealing with it very badly. "
> 
> \--
> 
> Where almost all the chickens come home to roost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you won't hate me too much for this chapter. It was planned since the beginning and I have hinted at it for a while so you may have seen it coming?
> 
> *goes hiding in a corner*
> 
> By the way, thank you very much for 100 Kudos! <3 <3  
> I posted a little bonus chapter which is completely Victuuri and hopefully funny about the first day of rehearsal for the show, it is called "Could you show me that again?" and you can find it as the fourth part of this series if you want! I hope you'll enjoy!  
> There will be some cute Victuuri moments in this chapter, too but I won't say anything to avoid spoilers, more notes at the end.

**phichit+chu:** Hello, Chris. This is Phichit. Are you up for something evil?

 **christophe-gc:** Hello!  
**christophe-gc:** Always!  
**christophe-gc:** What do you have in mind?

 **phichit+chu:** Remember how much fun we had in teasing my Yuuri and your Victor at the Club?

 **christophe-gc:** How can I forget! <3

 **phichit+chu:** They are going out right now…  
**phichit+chu:** Like, together!

 **christophe-gc:** I’ll be ready in a minute! Where are you?

 **phichit+chu:** Wait for you in the Hall!

 **christophe-gc:** By the way!  
**christophe-gc:** Congrats on your performance, it was really touching and beautiful!

 **phichit+chu:** Wow, really?? You have no idea how much this means to me!!  
**phichit+chu:** Thank you!!  
**phichit+chu:** Yours was wonderful too of course!  
**phichit+chu:** That part when everyone lifted that guy and then he spun on top of their hands!! Aaaaaaaaa  
**phichit+chu:** You could never do something like that in Ballet!

 **christophe-gc:** IKR?? I feel so free since I left!

 **phichit+chu:**...  
**phichit+chu:** Do you think I could audition for your company?

 **christophe-gc:** Are you serious?

 **phichit+chu:** Not sure, I love Ballet but  
**phichit+chu:** IDK it seemed so much fun and beautiful and maybe I could express myself more?  
**phichit+chu:** I really enjoyed your lessons this week :-)

 **christophe-gc:** Thanks!  
**christophe-gc:** Well, you sure can audition for the Company if you want!  
**christophe-gc:** But think about it because you are a really great ballet dancer  
**christophe-gc:** You give it that peculiar touch that makes it  
**christophe-gc:** Not boring?

 **phichit+chu:** *.*  
**phichit+chu:** Thank you!  
**phichit+chu:** I will.  
**phichit+chu:** See you in a bit!

 

“Yura Yura Yura!!!!”

“What do you want, old man?” hissed the younger Russian, glaring at Victor, who was jumping up and down in excitement.

“So, what do you think? Did you like it?”

“It was ok.”

Victor turned to him with a judging expression and commented sarcastically:

“Sure.”

“What do you want me to say? Go with your _friend_ already and stop bothering me!”

“I just want you to admit it, once, that you like him as a dancer and that you liked the choreography.”

Yuri’s face flushed and he tried to hide it by shoving his bangs to cover it even more than usual.

“I… don’t.”

“Come on, Yuuura!”

“Don’t stretch my name too much or you’ll get confused. It’s pronounced differently, you know?”

He was getting more and more irritated, what did Victor want with him? Hadn’t he already gotten the stupid other Yuuri? He felt something in his eyes and he absentmindedly wiped them with the back of his hand. Victor froze.

“I’m sorry, Yura. Is everything ok? Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying” he answered with a broken voice walking away from Victor. He didn't want to talk to him. He hated him and he hated stupid Yuuri and his stupid choreography and how stupidly well they had danced together. He had felt no emotions at all watching it, it was shallow and trite, with nothing original in the movements nor in the execution.

He was almost running through the corridor of the building when his thoughts were interrupted by a shy voice:

“Hello, Yuri! I haven’t seen you at any of the lessons yesterday. Were you at the show?”

“No.”

“Oh, ok. Well, I’m going home today so I guess this is a goodbye. It was nice to meet you even if for a little time.”

“Whatever. I’m going to crush you next year at the Audition!” blurted out Yuri before he could think better of it, without returning Yuuri’s gaze.

“I… I won’t try the Audition again. I’m retiring from Ballet.”

Yuri practically shouted:

“YOU ARE WHAT??”

“I’m retiring, I won’t be dancing again.”

“B-but why?”

If Yuuri didn’t know better, he would say that his namesake looked disappointed. He shook his head, that would be ridiculous.

“It’s a long story. I’m not sure you would want to hear it.”

Yuri’s eyes widened, he didn’t know what to say. This could not be real, it was bad enough that he and stupid Victor were being all gross and making heart-shaped eyes at each other but now he was also leaving dance?

“No, you can’t!”

“I’m sorry?” he didn’t really know how to answer to that. This was even more confusing than talking to Victor… Or not, he couldn’t decide.

“You’d better be! Does stupid Victor know?”

“I-Um.. I don’t think so? Why would Victor know?”

Yuri thought that if he heard another idiotic comment like that from either he or Victor he would punch them, so he decided to just leave.

“Fine, I don’t care.”

“Yuri, Yuri wait, please!”

Yuri stopped without turning back and Yuuri talked with a softer voice:

“Is everything okay?”

That was the last straw. He exploded:

“Would you two stop asking me that?? I don’t care about stupid Victor and I don’t care about stupid you so just leave me alone, ok? Go and be gross together wherever you want. I will be better than both of you in any case. I will create a better choreography and obtain my place at the Bolshoi without even having to compete against anyone.”

Yuuri was seriously in trouble. He really wanted to help him, but what he was saying didn’t make any sense! He wondered if he should call Victor, then he decided against it. In the confusion, he asked the only thing he could think of:

“Would you like to dance?”

“As in…?”

“As in practice, a choreography, an exercise, whatever you want. I can see that you are upset and when I am feeling that way I usually dance to let it out, it works! I’m sure we could find a practice room if you want?”

Yuri startled, then he answered, a bit shocked himself:

“Yes, okay.”

“Really? Good. Give me two minutes.”

Yuri nodded and Yuuri walked a little away from him to make a phone call. He had been given the contact of a person in the Organization two days prior to make arrangements for his rehearsal, so he tried to dial the number again. They agreed to let him use a small room for an hour at most because then they would need to start cleaning up for the end of the event. That could do, he thought. It was almost 17:00 and he still needed to talk to Victor and to finish packing before meeting up with Phichit, so he didn’t have much time anyway.

“They agreed to let us use a room on the second floor for an hour” he explained to Yuri. The Russian seemed still stuck and continued to just nod. Yuuri shrugged and lead the way towards the place they had been assigned.

Once there, Yuri broke the silence:

“Could I show you something?”

“Yes, sure.”

The room was almost completely covered with mirrors and there was a speaker in a corner so Yuri moved towards it to plug his phone in.

“Press ‘Play’ when I tell you.”

Yuuri nodded, positioning himself near the speaker. When he was told to, he started the music and his breath hitched. It was Puck’s variation. The modified version that Celestino had created for him with longer movements and fewer jumps. Yuri was dancing to it flawlessly, his interpretation a bit raw, but his technique was impressive. When he finished, Yuuri was nearly in tears.

“Why did you do that version instead of the original one?”

Yuri couldn’t answer to that question. He didn’t know how to express what he had been feeling from the moment in which his eyes had set on him dancing in Detroit. He had learned that variation because he wanted to understand, but he still didn’t. He abruptly took his phone and walked away, muttering a thank you. Yuuri stared at the door for a while after he left, then he realized that he was late. He had agreed to meet up with Victor right after the show and instead he had spent half an hour with the Russian Yuri. He hurried to the Hotel and he saw Victor waiting with a mildly concerned expression. 

When Yuuri waved at him, his features relaxed:

“You are here!”

“Hello. Sorry, I’m late.”

“Don’t worry, I was just scared that you won’t show up at all.”

“Hm.”

Victor could see that Yuuri was a breath away from fleeting again, so he stopped dwelling on his relief and moved to the practical matters:

“Shall we go?”

“Ok?”

Victor led him for a while, turning at corners and crossing some streets until he found what he was looking for. It was a small Cafè with adorable little tables and chairs in different colors. Yuuri noticed that it was simple and cozy, not at all what one would expect from the likes of Victor Nikiforov.

“Do you like it?” the Russian asked.

“I do, yes I like it a lot.”

“Good” Victor opened the door and they entered and sat at a table. They ordered a cup of tea and savored the quiet atmosphere around them until Victor broke the silence again:

“Have you enjoyed this week?”

Yuuri was embarrassed by the whole situation, but at the thought of the Dance Week, he warmed. It was a safe topic and he could talk about it.

“Yes, I did. My friend Phichit gave me the open pass as a gift and I really loved being able to share this experience with him.”

Victor hummed in understanding.

“You are very close aren’t you?”

“Yes, we are.”

Yuuri was smiling fondly, thinking about how much Phichit had done for him, then a sudden thought occurred to him and he turned serious, that was the point in which, to be polite, he should ask if Victor had enjoyed himself too. It was basic education. He blushed a little but voiced:

“W-what about you? Did you like the event?”

Victor beamed.

“Yes, I did. I had to work most mornings but I managed to try some of the lessons. It’s been interesting. Then, my junior arrived and I had to help him practice for a show that he has to perform in less than two weeks.”

He didn’t need to ask to know that he was talking about Yuri and the name made his worry exceed all the previous awkwardness:

“Oh yes, about him.”

Victor ignored the pang of jealousy that the words sent him. They were out together and he wanted to talk about Yuri Plisetsky? He blamed himself for introducing the topic. He encouraged him to continue nonetheless.

“Is he okay? I found him before and he was really upset. That’s the reason why I was late for our meeting.”

“He has some issues, it’s difficult to understand him if you don’t know him well. It’s not my place to tell but he really looks up to you.”

“I can’t see why he does but… I think I figured.”

Victor decided not to comment on that because he had experienced first hand how uneasy Yuuri was with accepting compliments so he focused on his curiosity.

“Did something happen?”

Yuuri found himself not wanting to share the fact that they had danced together, it was something between him and the Russian Yuri.

“No but… I told him that I was going to stop dancing and he got very angry.”

Victor was amused.

“You told him that? I bet he was furious! I’m surprised he didn’t break anything.”

“He… calmed down.”

“How did you manage that? I’m impressed. You'll need to teach me.”

Yuuri turned his gaze away. For a moment, he had almost forgotten that the person in front of him was the one he had idolized for his entire life. It was easy, he was so human. Victor wondered if he said something wrong again, then he saw that Yuuri was wearing that little secret smile of his that never failed to make his heart skip a beat and he relaxed. He decided to change the subject, in any case, wondering what another safe topic would be, then he reconsidered:

“Anyway. You can’t retire from dancing.”

He paused dramatically and stood up. He extended his arm in front of him and declared:

“From now on, you’ll be practicing with me and you will try the next audition for the Bolshoi with a choreography of yours!”

Yuuri blinked in confusion. That day was turning out to be an unending chain of impossible events and he was dealing with it very badly.

 

“What did he say?? Did you hear? Why is he in that pose like he is announcing something?” Phichit was desperate, he and Chris were not very subtly spying from a window as Yuuri and Victor talked and when Victor raised and offered his hand to Yuuri he was dying to know what was happening.

“I’m sorry, Phichit, I really can’t tell. Judging from how his lips moved I think he said something about the Bolshoi? Perhaps? But I can’t be sure.”

Phichit screeched.

“Ah! Do you think he is talking to him about that thing that we know and that we are ignoring because Yuuri is being all weird and in denial about it?”

The question had no answer because the very high-pitched sound that Phichit made had been heard by everyone in the little place and probably in the nearest buildings as well and Phichit had all the presents’ eyes on him, including Victor’s and Yuuri’s.

“Oh-Oh, Chris? Should we run?”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that” answered Chris, a little worried but more than everything enjoyed.

“Hello, Chris!” said Victor, exiting the Cafè with Yuuri in tow, who had his face completely flushed and glared at Phichit but also silently thanked him for the diversion because he didn’t know if he would have survived otherwise.

“Um, hello Victor, what a coincidence!”

“Don’t you even try that. What are you doing here?” his voice was cold, clearly he wasn’t glad about the interruption.

Phichit intervened:

“It’s not his fault, blame me, I was worried about Yuuri and I asked him to come.”

“Relax, Vee, it’s not a big deal, let’s go eat something together, we are all leaving later tonight aren’t we? Let’s do that double date that we should have done the other night!”

Both Phichit and Yuuri turned their gaze away in embarrassment. Chris laughed.

Victor pondered the question for a moment, then he agreed, much to Yuuri’s relief because that would give him some more time to process what Victor had said to him before. Then something came to his mind:

“We should call Yuri, too. It’s not fair to leave him alone. He is here with you, right Victor?” he asked.

“You are right, I’ll call him.”

 

Yuri was frustrated. Why, why had the stupid pig had to tell him that he was going to retire? And why did he even care? Why, in his shock, did he decide to show him that stupid variation that he definitely hadn’t been rehearsing every time he had been down in the past few years to find his motivation back? Why had he had to be there, in the first place? He was not real, he was an abstract image in some videos and, as a person, he was distant, so far away that it was impossible to actually get to know him. And yet Yuri had talked to him, more than once, or sort of talked to him since he hadn’t known what to do or what to feel when he found himself face to face with him in Moscow and even more so when he met him again in Tokyo. Then Victor had decided to act weird with him, of all people. He hated this. Victor didn’t have any right to stole the stupid Yuuri from him. He was just a dancer for him to watch from afar, someone to admire in videos or on a stage, not someone to actually know and talk to and definitely not someone for Victor to go out with. And to mess up with, apparently, because not only Victor was acting weird, but he was being an idiot with the whole ‘I don’t know what to do, I upset him but I don’t care’ thing. He was so angry that he wanted to cry. He wanted to punch Victor. Most of all he wanted to punch stupid Yuuri’s face, with his stupid happy expression when Yuri had danced his variation. Like he cared.

He arrived in Victor’s room, where he was still staying, and found that he wasn’t there. Great, he didn’t want to see him ever again. He groaned, flopping down on the couch. He was not crying in frustration when his phone rang, his eyes were glassy because he was tired. He sniffled and answered, without bothering to look at the caller ID:

“Hello?”

He didn’t recognize the sound of his own voice, it was completely different from his usual scowling, it was soft, tentative. When did that happen?

From the other side of the line, Victor startled.

“Yuri? Hi, it’s Victor, I’m here with Chris and some friends from the show and we are going to have dinner together before we all have to leave, we were wondering if you’d want to join?”

‘Some friends from the show’ sure. Why wasn’t he admitting it? He had been like that since Yuri had arrived. It was always ‘a friend from rehearsal’, ‘a dancer I met at the lesson’ he never said his name. Did he think that Yuri was a fool and couldn’t figure it out?

“I’m very busy. Besides, it’s not like _we_ are leaving, so I can wait for you in here.”

They never talked about the matter again after Yuri’s arrival, but he had assumed that nothing had changed for Victor. He had seen him during the performance, the way he had danced and the way he had looked at the other Yuuri. He had never danced like that. He wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.

“Yeah… We should talk about that when I come back.” Victor replied, then he said something to someone else, covering his phone with his hand and all Yuri heard was the sound of the phone being passed from a hand to another.

“Hi, Yuri! Please, it’s the last night of the event, come join us, it’s going to be fun!”

Yuri’s ears were buzzing and his heart was hammering in his chest from the embarrassment. He couldn’t talk to _him_ after humiliating himself by dancing his variation. But on top of every other emotion he was struggling with, he found that he actually wanted to go. He wanted to be there. He knew that Victor would be doing something awful again and upset him and he could prevent it if he was there. He froze. Had he just thought that he wanted to _protect_ the other Yuuri from Victor? What was wrong with him? He yelled at the phone.

“Fine, I’m on my way. Tell the moron to text me your position.”

“Good! Thank you!”

Yuri could picture his stupid smile from the sound of his voice. He shivered and tossed his phone away to go change his clothes.

Not long after, he arrived at the restaurant that they had chosen. He looked around and found that they were sitting at a table waiting for him. There were stupid Yuuri and his friend at one side and Victor and Chris at the other. He immediately noticed that Yuuri seemed uncomfortable and avoiding Victor’s gaze and he thought that he had been right, Victor had really upset him again. He was caught by a sudden burst of anger and before he had time to think about what he was doing he positioned himself between them at the head of the table.

Yuuri smiled and greeted him, soon followed by Chris and Phichit while Victor gave him a puzzled look. He shrugged.

“Let’s eat already, I’m hungry.”

That eased the tension and they resumed talking about Chris’ exhibition and his Company like they had been doing before Yuri’s arrival.

The evening went on in relative peace and quiet, everyone purposefully avoiding the topics that were actually haunting them and the questions hanging between them were evident only from the sideways glancing that they were giving each other.

That was, obviously, until Yuuri spoke.

“You know, this dinner is actually being nice! Now I feel sorry for running away the other day at the Club. We could have avoided a lot of stress during the rehearsal for the show if we had talked like this back then.”

Three people’s mouths dropped. Then, Phichit and Chris started laughing uncontrollably. Victor was visibly hurt and seemed to be on the verge of tears as he turned to Yuuri and asked:

“Yuuri, you don’t remember?”

Yuuri innocently asked:

“What?”

“He doesn’t remember! I can’t believe it! That explains everything! He wasn’t ignoring Victor!” said Phichit between cackles. He knew that he shouldn’t be laughing at his friend’s expenses, but he was so relieved to finally being able to understand what was happening with him that he couldn’t help it. He had been so worried about his odd behavior and now everything made sense.

Yuri didn’t know what they were talking about and he was starting to hate feeling left out so, since no one was making a move to explain, he shouted:

“Oi! Would someone explain what’s happening?”

Among the four of them, the only one who was clear-headed enough to form a coherent speech was Chris. He cleared his throat, smirked at Victor and started recounting his version of the facts:

“Everything started one day after an amazing pole dance lesson.”

Yuuri’s face paled and he tried to interrupt him:

“No no no, please don’t talk about that!”

Phichit had recovered a little by then and he put on his most devilish smile:

“He is right, Chris, don’t talk about that without telling how the story actually started! It was before, at your lesson!”

Chris chuckled in amusement, so Victor hadn’t been the only one to be affected by their little dance at his lesson. He motioned for Phichit to take over the narration, glad to have an accomplice.

Yuuri scolded him with a firm: “Phichit don’t!”, but Phichit ignored it:

“Chris’ choreography required us to change partner after every movement. At one point Yuuri ended up alone and by chance, Victor stepped in. When they finished the _piéce_ they were glued to each other in the final pose, unable to take their eyes off and they broke apart only when Chris called, signaling the end of the lesson.”

Both Yuuri and Victor were blushing and looking everywhere but at the other.

“After that, we met at the pole dance lesson, as I was saying” - resumed Chris - “and I asked if they were doing anything funny that evening and if I could join them bringing a friend.”

He winked at Phichit, who realized what he was about to say a moment before he actually did and he had to brace himself so as not to fall from his chair from laughing too hard.

“And Phichit said. ‘Sure but only if your friend is Yuuri’s type, so a dancer, blonde and with light eyes’ and so it was settled.”

Chris chuckled at Yuuri’s and Victor’s expressions and no one noticed the blush on the fifth member of their group’s cheeks.

“That night when we went out and realized that Chris’ friend was actually the mighty Victor Nikiforov, Yuuri downed two glasses of one of those colored cocktails and he asked me to leave but when we walked past them, he started yelling at Victor.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened at Phichit’s last sentence.

“What? No, we left, I didn’t do that!” he turned to Victor for a confirmation but Victor shook his head.

“No, Yuuri, it’s true, you told me that it was my fault if you failed your audition at the Bolshoi.”

Yuuri paled, all the confidence he had built up falling apart in an instant.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

Victor reassured him:

“It’s ok, it’s ok. I could see that you were a bit tipsy, besides, after that, we danced together all night. It’s been one of the best moments of my life.”

“We have pictures!” Phichit interfered, seeing that Yuuri was probably about to collapse given how wide his eyes were and how deep the red on his face was.

“What? Why didn’t you show me those, Chris!” pouted Victor.

“I was saving them for the right moment!”

They fought over Chris’ and Phichit’s phones, eager to see the pictures. Yuuri was still lost for words but wanted to see too.

Yuri needed to get out of there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...Oops! Please don't hate me! I swear I won't have Yuri suffer too much and Yuri and Yuuri's interactions will be completely platonic, the feelings are more confused than anything! This story is a Victuuri, scout's honor.  
> Aaand, more importantly, finally Yuuri is facing the truth about his night out with Victor!  
> I hope you liked my version of Victor's declaration, I know he wasn't naked and we are all sad about that but we had already established that popping up in Hasetsu unannounced would be a terrible idea.  
> Thank you for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think in the comments!  
> I don't know if I'll be able to post the chapter next week but I'll post as soon as I can, check my Tumblr for snippets and updates!


	11. Airports and Planes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " "Thank you again, Phichit-kun, for everything. I don’t know what I would have done without you these past weeks.”  
>   
> “We still have time. Let’s postpone this conversation to the airport or I’m going to cry!”  
>   
> “Yeah, this is a good idea.” said Yuuri, already wiping at his eyes. "
> 
> \--
> 
> Where everyone catches a plane...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm back!!  
> Sorry for the delay, I've been a lot busy with winter holidays and work and I haven't been able to write a lot, now I'll restart updating weekly!!  
> I am particularly fond of this chapter and I've been particularly emotional in writing it, so I hope you'll like it!  
> Thank you for reading!! <3

His head was spinning. He couldn’t quite catch up with what was happening around him. He thought that he had probably fallen during the performance and now he was having some feverish dream or maybe he had died and woke up in a parallel reality in which he was a completely different person. He kept watching the pictures that Phichit and Chris were showing them and he couldn’t recognize himself or Victor in those two figures. One was completely drunk and embarrassing, that was true, but both of them were so very happy and so very lost in each others’ eyes. He honestly couldn’t believe it was them. He blinked a couple of times to make sure that he wasn’t imagining things but how could he imagine something like that? Not in the most unrealistic and creative of his dreams, he had ever let himself do so much as think that he and Victor could meet and dance _together_. He had always wanted to dance with him but he imagined a stage and a lot more distance between the front where Victor would stand and his own position on the sidelines. He had never let himself imagine that he could one day dance _with_ him. 

“Hello? Earth to Yuuri?” Phichit’s voice brought him back to the present. He had spaced out for a while and his friend was touching his shoulder to comfort him. His heart was beating fast. He locked eyes with Phichit and he couldn’t help but smile, he felt his eyes sting but they were happy tears. He was happy. How could he not be?

“Phichit-kun, I-I can’t believe this! Are these real?”

“Of course they are, _Yuuri_!” Victor purred. He hadn’t realized that they were so close, lost as he was in the images in front of him. The proximity made a shiver run down his spine.

Then, he felt that something was wrong. He looked around and saw that someone was missing from the group. His chest tightened. 

“Where is Yuri?” he asked.

The others realized that he had left at the same moment, they had been busy with the phones and amused by Yuuri’s incredulity and didn't notice when it happened. They looked around in confusion.

“We'd better go out looking for him.” said Yuuri, his voice more firm now that he had a purpose.

Victor sighed but acknowledged that he was right and they split up to start searching for the younger Russian.

 

Yuri had walked away from the table stumbling to stay upright and he had waited until he was out of the place to breathe. He was leaning against the wall to support himself. He promised himself not to cry. Why would he cry over stupid Yuuri of all people? He didn’t know how much time had passed since he left the table when someone approached him and talked to him with a soft voice:

“Ehy… How long have you been here? We were worried.”

Yuri looked up to see the same face that he was trying to remove from his thoughts.

“Leave me alone.”

Yuuri took another step closer and gently put his hand on Yuri’s arm. The Russian looked conflicted for a moment, but he didn’t shake it off.

“Look, I know that we are not friends and that you don’t like me at all, but back in Moscow I saw in your eyes that you were in trouble for some reason, I recognized the same anxiety that I always feel. We may be more similar than you think. That’s the reason why I have tried to be helpful and sympathetic when I saw you here in Tokyo, even if maybe I have overstepped? I shouldn’t have apologized to you for not talking to you back then... I don’t know. You don’t have to tell me why you are upset but… If there's anything I could to do help, I’ll be happy to do it. Maybe I haven’t understood anything at all and I’m just rambling. I’m sorry.”

Yuri had been silent. He was still struggling to prevent himself from crying and he wanted Yuuri to stop touching his arm but he also didn’t want him to. It was weird. He looked up at his stupid soft expression with a mixture of gratefulness and despise. Was it true that he had been anxious? Thinking back at that moment in the changing room in Russia, probably yes. That explained a little why Yuuri had been so eager to talk to him and be nice to him in the last couple of days. He shook his head and scowled.

“You are right, you don’t understand anything.”

In that moment, Victor, Phichit and Chris got there and Yuri snapped to free himself from Yuuri’s hand. His frown was deepening and he turned to Victor:

“Can we please go, now?”

Victor stopped to take in the scene in front of him. Understanding hit him. How blind had he been towards Yuri? He had let him down. Ruefully, he nodded and waving goodbye to the others the two Russians made their way back to the hotel.

Yuuri sighed and Phichit stepped closer to him protectively.

“Ah, poor little Plisetsky. He made the same mistake as many others before him.” Sighed Chris dramatically, draping an arm around both of their shoulders.

Yuuri turned to him with a puzzled expression and he elaborated:

“He has fallen in love with someone who is already taken.”

“Chris, I-I don’t think that’s the case.”

“So you aren’t denying the second part of the sentence, hm?”

“Phichit help!!” he yelled as Chris chuckled at his discomfort.

“I’m sorry, darling, I was only trying to lighten the mood. I think he is just a little confused about his feelings, he is very young after all.”

Yuuri nodded. After a couple more moments spent in silence, he turned to Phichit:

“We’d better go get ready to leave, too.” 

Finally, Phichit spoke:

“You are right. Goodbye, Chris. I hope we’ll see each other again soon?” said Phichit. Chris smiled brightly at them and stepped away to give them space, answering:

“Me, too! Goodbye, my friends, have a nice trip. Are you going back to Detroit?”

“Just me. Yuuri is going home.” he looked a little dejected, but Chris decided against inquiring any further. “My choreographer granted me a month away from the Company and I have already exceeded it a little. He knows it’s for a good cause, so I won’t probably have too much trouble for it, but I have to go back, now.”

“We’ll probably be at the Italian Bolshoi Gala, though. Are you going?” intervened Yuuri.

“Ah, that’s one of my favorites, there’s always something magical about _La Scala_. I’ll see if they can find me a ticket.” He winked. “I’ll go now. It’s been nice, thanks for the company!”

“Thank you.” They answered and after hugging him one after the other they parted. Phichit grinned.

“So you decided to come to the Italian Gala!”

“Yes, I know Celestino and some others from the Detroit Ballet are going and it’ll be good to be able to say a proper goodbye to them. I haven’t really talked to any of them since I left the Company so abruptly.”

Phichit nodded.

“They’ll be happy to see you. I wasn’t the only one to be worried when you didn’t come back from Russia.”

“I’ll make sure to apologize, I promise. Thank you again, Phichit-kun, for everything. I don’t know what I would have done without you these past weeks.”

“We still have time. Let’s postpone this conversation to the airport or I’m going to cry!”

“Yeah, this is a good idea.” said Yuuri, already wiping at his eyes.

“Soooo, let’s talk about the big news, instead!”

Yuuri shivered. 

“I don’t know if I can talk about it, I’m still trying and failing to convince myself that this is even real.”

“You should just give yourself a little more credit. As I tried to make you understand with my little project, he is just another dancer, not some kind of _idol_ or _god_ like you seem to think. And he happens to like you! You should be happy about it.”

“I-I… Of course I'm happy but… Why? How?”

“We do not question happiness when it comes to us in the shape of a very good-looking Russian man, we accept it with a smile. Just, breathe, relax and don’t think that you don’t deserve it because you do. Stop pushing him away because you don’t feel up to something and let _him_ decide if you are. If he wants to help you with the audition for the Bolshoi it’s because he sees potential in you!”

Yuuri was staring with eyes wide and his mouth agape.

“He sees potential in me” he repeated, mesmerized by the thought. “I can’t believe it.”

Phichit’s features softened.

“Of course you can’t! It’s so much to take in, but you will. Promise me that you’ll try.”

“I will.”

“That’s good. Now let’s go packing out things, then we will find your precious new _coach_.”

Yuuri shivered again, but he felt something warming in his gut and his heartbeat racing. He was… happy.

 

“What do you want me to do, Yuri? Do you want me to come back to Russia? Tell me honestly, if that is really what you want I will do it.”

He and Victor were back in the hotel room and Yuri was sitting on the couch with his knees bent towards his chest and his head sunk into a pillow above them. He was biting the soft pillowcase to avoid gritting his teeth. Victor was sitting next to him and was running circles with his fingers on his back in a soothing gesture.

“I am a dancer, blonde and with light eyes, too.”

Victor sighed. He was expecting something like that at this point. Yuri had been yelling that he didn’t care about anything and that he hated them with various degrees of swearing, luckily in Russian, for the entirety of their travel back from the restaurant and for a couple more minutes after they entered the room, then he was too exhausted to continue.

“It’s not that simple, Yura. Chris was just joking, you know that, right?”

“But you didn’t even know who he was. He was _my_ dancer, not yours.” He didn’t want to admit that out loud, especially in front of Victor, but he was too tired to think clearly and something had cut loose in his brain. His emotions were flowing raw and there was no way to stop them.

“I know. I’m sorry if I haven’t figured it out sooner, maybe I could have helped or at least avoid making it worse. But this, what happened with me and Yuuri, has nothing to do with you. You can still admire him even if now he is someone real and not just a distant dancer, right? Maybe you’ll even end up training together with him and become his friend.”

“He said that he won’t dance anymore.”

“That’s true, but if I’m going to stay here, I’m going to make him change his mind.” Victor had a focused expression. As Yuri looked at him, he felt something resurfacing in the back of his mind. He had been pushing those thoughts away for a long time, covering them with hatred and scowling and frustration. His feelings for Victor were different from his admiration towards Yuuri, they were more similar to the kind of things that people usually felt for their parents, an admiration that meant ‘I want to be like you someday’. He knew in that moment that he could never stand in the way of Victor’s happiness, so he would have to step back and leave Yuuri to him. Not that Yuuri was his to leave to begin with, but he should stop being selfish about the matter.

“No, I don’t want you to come back to Russia.” He answered with determination, then more tentatively he added: “Will you still come watch me dance at the Italian Gala?”

Victor’s heart tightened. He was about to backtrack and tell him that he would go back with him, but he could see the new resolve in the teen’s eyes and he understood that he needed to let him deal with this on his own.

“Of course, Yuratchka! I’m sure Yakov will be able to find me a pass or a ticket. I’ll be there.”

Yuri nodded and opened his phone to look for the first plane to Moscow.

 

As they were packing the last of their items, Yuuri couldn’t stop smiling. He was trying to do as Phichit said, not trying to rationalize and just accept what was happening and, in fact, it was easier than he thought. He had always been one to overthink everything and it was something that he could never stop completely. The situation he was now in, though, was comparable to the moment in which a character in a fantasy movie or game is first told that he has some kind of magic: so much unbelievable, that there were no other options than to wait and see what happened next.

The room phone rang and he hurried to pick it up with his heart pounding in his throat.

“Moshi mo— Hello?” Great, he had started perfectly.

“Hi, Yuuri! This is Victor, we couldn’t find a plane to Russia for tonight so we are staying here another day, do you mind if I accompany you to the airport so that we can make some arrangements about our future projects?”

It was like someone had thrown cold water on his face. His chest suddenly ached. He hadn’t thought about that possibility. So, in the end, Victor had decided to go home with the little Yuri. It was fine, he had been the first to be concerned about the younger Russian. He tried to keep his voice uplift, not wanting to make Victor feel bad about his second thought.

“What kind of arrangements?” 

Victor chuckled, then answered in an ironically reproachful tone:

“Are we going to play this game every time? You don’t have the excuse of the alcohol anymore. I’m going to help you practice and create a choreography for the next audition for the Bolshoi and, in order to do that, I need to be at least in the same continent as you, so we’ll have to talk about where to go.”

“But you just said that you are going back to Russia?”

“I didn’t. I… Oh, I’m sorry, no, Yuri Plisetsky is going back to Moscow, I’m just helping him out and I don’t want him to stay here by himself tonight.”

A wave of relief washed over him and he managed to just breathe a:

“Oh...”

“So, do you mind if I come with you to the airport?”

“Yes, I mean… No, it’s okay. I… I’d like that.”

His face was burning. He took a deep breath to steady himself. He felt Phichit laughing behind him and made a mental note to take his revenge on him sooner or later.

“Good! Perfect! Where should we meet?”

“We are leaving in a couple of minutes, we’ll wait for you in the Hall?”

“Okay, see you there.”

Victor hang up and Yuuri turned to Phichit with an angry expression which completely melted as soon as he glanced at the fond look that his friend was giving him.

“I’m so glad that things turned out this way for you, Yuuri. You really deserve this.”

“Thank you, Phichit-kun.”

By the time they were ready to go and checked out from the room, Yuuri’s heartbeat hadn’t yet steadied and his face had set on a wonderful shade of crimson. He approached the Hall dragging his suitcase behind him while Phichit giggled by his side. He glared at him but without any real heat, he agreed that he was probably hilarious. They caught a glimpse of silver and blue and he swallowed a lump in his throat before speaking with the firmest voice he could manage:

“Hello Victor, we are ready.”

Victor smiled so brightly that he could have enlightened the entirety of Tokyo.

“Great, let’s go.”

They walked out of the Hotel and found a car waiting for them.

“I took the liberty of calling a cab for us. On me, of course.”

Yuuri breathed deeply and slowly, repeating to himself again that he had to not question him and let him decide what he wanted to do.

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

Phichit gave him a thumbs up with a proud look in his eyes.

As soon as they got on the car, Victor started talking to him animatedly:

“So, you said that you planned on retiring from your Company in Detroit, is that true?”

“I am planning on retiring from dance, I have already left the Company.” Yuuri corrected.

“I have tried to make him change his mind, but it didn’t work.” Intervened Phichit from the seat next to him.

“If he was trying to audition for the Bolshoi he was already planning on leaving the Detroit Ballet before.” Commented Victor.

“That’s true.” Answered Phichit with a nod, then he turned to watch out of his window to give them some sort of privacy. Yuuri continued:

“I have always wanted to dance at the Bolshoi and everyone in the Detroit Ballet knew that. They have always supported me.”

“I know your choreographer, Celestino, he is a good person.”

“He is.” Yuuri and Phichit shared a fond look, they were both very affectionate to their coach.

“What are your plans, then, if you are not going back to Detroit?”

“I am going to my home. It’s in a small town in Japan called Hasetsu. I can give you the address?” His voice faltered a little, but Victor seemed pleased by the suggestion.

“That would be great, I can come see you there as soon as Yuri leaves for Russia and we can make more detailed plans.”

“O-kay.” It didn’t feel real at all. The only thing remembering him that he wasn’t actually floating on air was the warmth of the car against his skin and the noise of the tires on the road behind them. 

The three of them were quiet after that. Victor was smiling, content and a little scared that if he had kept talking he would have made Yuuri run away again. Not that it actually happened the first time, since Yuuri didn't remember it, but the feeling of rejection he had proved in the past few days was fresh in his memory and it wasn’t something he was willing to repeat.

They arrived at the airport and Victor helped them unload their suitcases from the car, then he stopped, expectant. Yuuri wasn’t sure what he was waiting for exactly, so he looked pointedly at Phichit in a silent request for help. Phichit judged that his friend had behaved well enough after their talk outside of the restaurant and that it must have been difficult for him to do that, so he chuckled a little but stepped in, anyway.

“We have to go now, Victor, thank you. Really, for everything. I know your help will be precious to Yuuri.”

“I am glad that you think that, Phichit, as Yuuri’s friend, your opinion is important to me. I’ll do my best.”

He still made no move to go back in the car, so Phichit frowned and continued:

“Is there any problem with the car? Do we have to do something?”

“Oh, no. I was just waiting for Yuuri to say a proper goodbye to me.”

Yuuri’s expression got even more confused at that. Victor gave him a small smile, then he answered in a more high-pitched tone, with his bottom lip slightly pushed forward in what could only be described as a pout.

“You may not have realized it, but I did. After the show, you hugged every one of the dancers. Literally everyone except for me. I won’t leave without my hug. I was one of your dancers, too! I deserve it!”

Phichit covered his mouth with his hands to hide his laugh. Yuuri was on the verge of trembling. 

“I realized it. I-Um...”

He lowered his eyes but stepped towards Victor and silently hugged him. They had already done that, he had seen the pictures, it shouldn’t be weird. He breathed in his scent and felt Victor melt in his arms. He couldn’t help the small smile on his lips, that didn’t fade for the entirety of the trip back.

After Victor left, the moment couldn’t be postponed any longer. Yuuri sighed as he locked eyes with Phichit. They didn’t need words to understand that the other was feeling in the exact same way. They had shared so much, so many moments in their small apartment in Detroit, dancing together in the company, going to shows, competitions, auditions, always together, and after Phichit’s arrival in Hasetsu, in the moment of need, Yuuri felt like their bond had tightened, if possible, even more. Phichit just nodded. He had always known that Yuuri wanted to go to Russia, but that didn’t make the parting any easier. They hugged for long until the time for the check in was almost up. Telling each other a flow of words that none of them would remember later, they knew anyway. There were thank-yous, there were goodbyes, a few promises, even Victor was momentarily forgotten because this was more important. Then Yuuri let go of the embrace and took a step backward.

“You will miss your plane, Phichit-kun.”

“There are other planes in this airport.” whined Phichit.

Yuuri chuckled.

“I know, but it won’t change anything even if we delay this again. Besides, we are going to see each other in less than two weeks?”

“Yeah… But it’s not the same! I’ll have to look for another roommate? I hate the others at the company.”

“No, you don’t! You like everybody and everybody likes you, you will be fine.”

“I knooow but everything is boring without you, Yuuri! I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“Fine. I’ll go now. I’ll Skype you when I land?”

“Thank you, I’ll be waiting. Goodbye, Phichit-kun.”

“Goodbye, Yuuri. See you soon.”

They went their separate ways, Phichit to reach the gate for the international flights and Yuuri to the internal ones. Their friendship would never weaken and they would see each other soon, but it would be different. They waited until the other was out of sight to let their tears run freely. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I assure you that I cried writing Victor and Yuri's scene and Yuuri and Phichit's goodbye!  
> I think we are approximately over the first half of the story, we are now entering the actual Victuuri so, stay tuned for some fluffiness! And I promise little Yuri is going to be okay, too!  
> See you next week!


	12. A new beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " "This is Victor Nikiforov, he is going to create a choreography for my next auditions...” Yuuri trailed off.  
> Victor interjected, offering his hand for Minako to shake:  
> “That’s not exactly correct. I’m going to help him practice and create a choreography of his own. Nice to meet you.”  
> “Nice to meet you, too. Mr. Nikiforov, I know who you are, your fame precedes you." "
> 
> \--
> 
> Training in Hasetsu officially starts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are back in Hasetsu and things should get more interesting! This chapter is a sort of introduction to the themes of this second part of the fic, which is probably going to be shorter but more intense. I have the general outline of what is going to happen and the ending is already written but I don't know exactly how many chapters are left. We'll have more Victuuri, of course, but also little Yuri's growth and more Phichit, because I can't let him leave the story for good!  
> I hope you enjoy it! If you want, let me know what you think, I'd love to hear from you!

When Yuuri arrived in Hasetsu after his failure in Moscow, he liked the feeling of being home. He loved the comfort that the familiar scents, the warmth and the colors of the place brought him, but he also felt like he was running away, like he wasn’t meant to be there. Phichit’s arrival had been a thunderstorm that had snapped him out of that guilt and made him really able to enjoy everything better after. Entering his room now, was something else still. His world had turned upside down on his axis and he felt more confident that he ever had in his life.

He dined with his parents and his sister, telling them all about the Dancing Week and anticipating that he was going to have a new mentor that would arrive the next day. They prepared an old banquet room for him to sleep in and didn’t ask any further question, despite giving curious looks at Yuuri’s slightly flushed and awed face as he spoke about it. He helped them with some chores then he excused himself and went to get ready for the night. He thought that he wouldn’t have been able to sleep, but the end of the event, the show and the travel had left him more tired than he expected.

The next morning he woke up with a start. He hadn’t asked Victor for his phone number and he had no idea when his plane would land! He should have gone picking him up, how could he leave him alone in a foreign city where few people even spoke English? He had been so self-absorbed that he hadn’t thought about that! Then he remembered, Phichit had made him add Victor on Instagram. He could try that.

He opened the app and typed:

**katsukiyuri:** Hello Victor, this is Yuur

Of course, Victor would know who it was, he had followed him back, hadn’t he?

He deleted the message and tried again.

**katsukiyuri:** Hello Victor, sorry I forgot to ask you: at what time does your plane leave today? I’ll come pick you up at the airport.

It was good, wasn’t it? Not too formal, not too friendly. He read the text at least twenty times until the words lost their meaning and he just hit “send” because he was starting to freak out. A few seconds later Victor answered.

**v_nikiforov:** Aww, that’s so nice of you!  <3 <3  
**v_nikiforov:** But there’s no need, I’m downstairs!

Yuuri had forgotten to check the time. He had woken up so suddenly that he had assumed it was early. He hurried to shower and change his clothes into something less raggedy than the old and worn out t-shirt he had been sleeping in and avoided bothering to look himself up in the mirror because he knew that if he had done that, he wouldn’t have been able to exit his room. He took a deep breath and headed downstairs.

Victor was there, sitting with his family and having breakfast. He rubbed his eyes to check if he was really awake. Victor heard his steps and turned, smiling at him cheerfully.

“Good morning!”

“Hello, I’m sorry, I should have come picking you up.”

“Don’t worry, I am used to traveling, I didn’t mind.”

Yuuri pursed his lips, unconvinced.

“Come have breakfast with your _guest_ Yuuri.” His sister said. He flinched at the way she stressed the word “guest” with an underlying amused tone. He gave her a pleading look but she just smiled affectionately.

They had breakfast together and the silence wasn’t uncomfortable but Yuuri’s brain couldn’t stop screaming internally for the entire time because HE WAS HAVING BREAKFAST. IN HIS HOUSE. WITH VICTOR NIKIFOROV. After a while, he couldn’t take it any longer so he decided to say something to distract himself.

“Was your trip okay? Did you have any trouble finding the place?”

“It was fine, thank you. No, I didn’t have problems, I used the instructions from the Hotel's website page.”

“I’m glad. What about Yuri?”

Victor suppressed the inevitable pang of jealousy and smiled reassuringly. Yuuri had been the first one to understand that Yuri was more upset than everyone, including himself, had thought, and he softened at his sincere concern.

“He is fine, too. We talked for a long time yesterday, he looks much better now. He left earlier this morning.”

Yuuri nodded and smiled softly but his eyes remained downcast. Victor frowned. He approached him and put a hand under his chin to lift it up.

“Yuuri, you have to be more comfortable around me if we want this to work out, why don’t we have a walk later to talk and build some trust in our relationship?”

“O-okay.”

Mari watched the scene from the kitchen door and shook her head. ‘A new mentor, sure…’

 

Yuri landed in Moscow and felt incredibly lonely. He didn’t want to go back to his house, he didn’t want to face his parents who would surely be mad at him for leaving for three days without warning, but he didn’t want to face Yakov, either. The Director would tell him that he had been inconsiderate and that he would miss his chance to dance at the Italian Gala and therefore his chance to become part of the Company the following year. He didn’t want to be alone, though. He could call his grandfather but he knew that despite loving him and understanding him, he didn’t like to be put in the middle when Yuri wanted to avoid his parents. Why did he have to tell Victor that it was okay for him to stay in Japan? Why couldn’t he just tell him a stupid “Yes” when Victor asked if he really wanted him to go back to Russia? He sighed. He knew the reasons of course, but that meant that now he had nowhere to go.

“Yura!”

The sound of his name snapped him out of his reverie. He looked around, trying to see who was calling him when he felt two slender arms wrapping themselves tightly around his small frame and his face completely surrounded by curly red hair and a flowery cologne.

“Let go of me, old hag, what do you want?”

He wanted to make his voice sound cold, but he couldn’t mask the sense of relief completely.

“Victor called. He suggested that you could use some company.” She whispered in his ear.

“Thank you.”

Mila gaped. If he was thanking her openly the situation was far worse than she imagined. She said nothing and Yuri was grateful for that. She stepped away from the embrace and winked at him.

“What do you want to do? We'd better go to rehearsal later, but we can run away for a couple more hours.”

“We could go shopping?” Yuri suggested.

“I’d love that.” Mila smiled wickedly and he laughed.

“Okay.”

They left the airport in silence and took the bus to the city center where they strolled casually for a while, stopping every now and then to watch some store windows or enter a shop. They weren’t used to go out together by themselves often but they found some familiarity in commenting on the things they were seeing and sharing malice about the people they passed by. Every other time, when they went shopping like that, Georgi would scold them or Victor would upstage everyone to be the center of attention. It was fun for once to be only the two of them. Yuri laughed and spew all of his venom and didn’t think about Victor or Yuuri or Japan for the entire time.

It was only later, when they were heading to the Theatre, that Mila brought up the topic:

“Victor told me that you were a little messed up yesterday.”

It wasn’t a question but she turned to him to see if she was rubbing too much salt into an open wound. Yuri stayed silent, his face emotionless.

“I’m not going to ask you anything. I just want you to know that if you ever want to talk or something, I’m here for you.”

Yuri nodded and they walked the rest of the path lost in their thoughts.

At rehearsal, Yakov made him go through his variation for the Italian Gala so many times that his legs hurt and he couldn’t even remember what emotion he was supposed to convey by dancing to that _piéce_ or what story he was supposed to tell. He thought that it was probably a way to punish him, but he was also grateful because it made him burn off all of his frustration. In the end, they let him go and assured him that the spot for the show was still his. He felt a little lighter and he decided to go back to his house. If he was lucky enough, his parents wouldn’t be there.

As expected, he opened the door to a very familiar empty place. He shrugged, throwing his suitcase, shoes and coat in a corner of his room and locking himself in. He flopped on the bed with his clothes still on and fell asleep cuddling with his cat. Everything else could wait until the next day.

 

**phichit+chu:** Soooooooo???

**katsukiyuri:** He was in my kitchen. VICTOR NIKIFOROV was in my kitchen.

**phichit+chu:** :)

**katsukiyuri:** We didn’t get to practice today, he said he wanted to “build some trust in our relationship”. I gave him the tour of Hasetsu. Now he is probably bored to death and wishing he was in Russia.

**phichit+chu:** Don’t be so harsh! Hasetsu is lovely. Remember to have him try the onsen!

**katsukiyuri:** Yeah, we’ll go later when the majority of the patrons are dining.

**phichit+chu:** Oh oh…

**katsukiyuri:** NOT LIKE THAT!!  
**katsukiyuri:** Please…  
**katsukiyuri:** It’s already embarrassing enough.

**phichit+chu:** Fine. I won’t say anything.  
**phichit+chu:** When you’ll train, show him THE THING, he’ll like it ;)

**katsukiyuri:** I don’t know, I’m not very good at it. 

**phichit+chu:** Trust your Phichit! I’ve seen you, you are amazing!

**katsukiyuri:** Could be a better way to start off than variations…  
**katsukiyuri:** I’ll think about it.  
**katsukiyuri:** How’s Detroit?

**phichit+chu:** Ciao-ciao is killing me.

**katsukiyuri:** I don’t think that’s true...

**phichit+chu:** No, but he is making me work a lot to catch up. It’s okay, I was prepared for this.  
**phichit+chu:** I miss you!!

**katsukiyuri:** Me too!! Have you found another roommate yet?

**phichit+chu:** No, I think I’ll try staying by myself for a while. Could be good, right?

**katsukiyuri:** Wow, that’s a big change! Good luck!

**phichit+chu:** Thanks  
**phichit+chu:** It’s just…  
**phichit+chu:** I love dancing for this Company but I was thinking  
**phichit+chu:** You know, you’ve always had your big dream and I’ve always been happy to be your wingman, but now it’s over and I still don’t have a big dream for myself?

**katsukiyuri:** That’s not true! You’ve always wanted to dance for your Country, to make Thailand known even in Ballet.

**phichit+chu:** I know  
**phichit+chu:** ...  
**phichit+chu:** I asked Chris if I could audition for his company.

**katsukiyuri:** What? Really??  
**katsukiyuri:** Why didn’t you tell me?

**phichit+chu:** We didn’t really have time for that, between Victor and Plisetsky and the show

**katsukiyuri:** You’re right. I’m sorry.

**phichit+chu:** It’s not your fault! I was there to help YOU, the all week was supposed to be about you!

**katsukiyuri:** I should have noticed anyway.  
**katsukiyuri:** Are you sure about wanting to leave Ballet?

**phichit+chu:** No.  
**phichit+chu:** I don’t know.  
**phichit+chu:** I love Ballet but I never got the main role in anything, and unlike you I DID try…  
**phichit+chu:** Also, his style is amazing! So freeing!  
**phichit+chu:** Maybe I could finally dance to the soundtrack from “The King and The Skater”!

**katsukiyuri:** You’ve always loved that song :)

**phichit+chu:** Yeah… And Ciao-ciao never let me use it!

**katsukiyuri:** It’s not very classical, you have to admit!

**phichit+chu:**...

**katsukiyuri:** Well, if you want to try something different for a period of time I think you should talk to Celestino. He was very kind and open with me when I told him that I wanted to try the audition for the Bolshoi.

**phichit+chu:** Maybe I will talk to him.  
**phichit+chu:** Thank you, Yuuri :)

**katsukiyuri:** Least I could do!

**phichit+chu:** You should go back to YOUR coach now...

**katsukiyuri:** Bye Phichit! Let me know how it goes!

**phichit+chu:** Sure. Bye!  <3  
**phichit+chu:** You let me know, too ;)

 

Victor Nikiforov loved Hasetsu. Even more so, he _loved_ the onsen. He had soaked in the warm water until Yuuri told him that they had to go to dinner and he promised himself to go back there every time he could. It felt amazing, regenerating like anything else he had experienced in his life. Add to that the perfect view on a very blushing and cute and very less clothed Japanese dancer as a bonus and he could probably live in there. If it wasn’t that Yuuri’s mother’s cooking was almost equally tempting. He sighed and leaned over the edge of the pool to pull himself out of the water. He showered and got dressed slowly, appreciating the warmth that still lingered on his body. He thought that he had never felt that relaxed before.

Yuuri had left the pool earlier and was now waiting for him in the dining room. When Victor smiled at him, he predictably turned to the other side, making Victor wonder what he could do to make him more at ease. The day had been incredibly difficult, every time Victor had tried to talk to him, Yuuri had answered politely but without ever actually leaving his shell. They had such a beautiful connection at the Dance Week when they danced together and yet they couldn’t seem to find it back now. Victor was getting a little frustrated, he thought that once Yuuri remembered their talk and their night out, he would open up more but apparently that wasn’t the case. He wasn’t one to give up at the first difficulties, though, and they hadn’t started practicing yet, maybe things would be different then.

The following day, Yuuri took him to Minako’s Dance Studio, explaining that it was the place where he learned to dance and where he had always gone for practicing. Minako was a beautiful and effusive woman, who greeted Yuuri loudly and fondly as soon as she saw him and stared at Victor with wide eyes and a wide grin.

“Yuuri… Why don’t you introduce me to your new friend??”

“Right, I’m sorry, Minako-sensei, this is Victor Nikiforov, he is going to create a choreography for my next auditions...” Yuuri trailed off.

Victor interjected, offering his hand for Minako to shake:

“That’s not exactly correct. I’m going to help him practice and create a choreography of his own. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too. Mr. Nikiforov, I know who you are, your fame precedes you. I’m Okukawa Minako, you can call me Minako.”

“I know your name, too, of course. You won the Benois de la Danse, it’s an honor to see you in person!”

“Aww don’t make me blush, it was a long time ago. It’s all about Yuuri, now. Please, make yourself at home, my studio is your studio.”

She smiled at them and let them enter the place. They were almost in the changing rooms when she yelled:

“Yuuri, I’m sure you’ll need _the thing_ , you can find it in the usual place.”

Victor turned to Yuuri with a puzzled look in time to see him rolling his eyes and muttering under his breath:

“Why is everyone so obsessed with that thing?”

He moved closer, intrigued:

“What thing?”

Yuuri thought, not for the first time, that Victor had absolutely no sense of personal space. He shivered, taking a step back and clearing his throat.

“It’s nothing...”

Victor leaned in again to near him, oblivious or unconcerned to his discomfort, saying with a low voice that made Yuuri’s stomach twist and his face flush:

“Come ooon, why don’t you tell me? I’m your mentor now, I have to know everything about you!”

“It’s stupid, it’s just something I used to do to train for improving my jumps.”

“What is it? What is it?”

Victor’s face was completely lit up, he looked like a child despite everything else. Yuuri found himself smiling softly without realizing it.

“Fine, I’ll show you, but it’s really nothing!”

“Let me judge that!” he said with a wink, stepping away from him and letting him breathe. Yuuri was surprised by the gesture and appreciated it a lot. He found himself wondering if opening up more with Victor would be so bad after all. At the same time, Victor cheered silently in his mind: he had made Yuuri smile sincerely and even if simple, it was still an important conquest.

Yuuri led him into one of the practice rooms that looked exactly like any other place furnished for a dance class. There was the typical _barre_ all along one of the walls and mirrors covering the entirety of the opposite one. What was atypical was the presence of a long red drape hanging from the ceiling. Victor watched it with awe.

“It’s an aerial silk!”

“Yes… As I said, it’s just a stupid thing I used to do to train for my jumps, it’s nothing.”

Victor turned to him but Yuuri wouldn’t meet his eyes. He couldn’t suppress his excitement.

“It’s not stupid, it’s amazing! And actually very clever, I never thought about it. Could you show me some moves before we start the actual practice?”

“I guess. But I’m not very good at it...”

Victor was practically bouncing on the floor.

They stretched and Victor let Yuuri guide the exercises because he knew better what kind of muscles they would need for the aerial dance. When he judged that they were ready enough, he neared the drape. He was still very self-conscious but Victor could see that guiding the stretching and being in a familiar place and with a focused mind had helped his confidence a lot. Yuuri took hold of the aerial silk and explained:

“Ok, so, first of all, you’ll need to learn how to climb it. You have to roll up the drape around your foot, from the outside to the inside, like this, then step on it with the other foot and push yourself upwards, helping with your arms a little.”

“All right, I think I got it. Can I try?”

Yuuri nodded, unable to contain another soft smile at Victor’s starry-eyed expression.

As soon as Yuuri jumped off, he launched himself on the drape, trying to replicate the position he had been shown. Without really thinking about it, Yuuri reached out to help him and his hand brushed Victor’s leg. Both of them started at the light contact but quickly focused back on the task. Yuuri cleared his throat and explained that he had to flex his foot in order for the cloth to stay fixed in the position. Victor nodded, his lips pursed in concentration as he started to go up. His legs were longer and, being a dancer, his muscles were well trained, so he managed to climb quite effortlessly once he figured out the technique.

“You are already better than me. Now to get off, you let go of one hand and simply slide down. When you reach the maximum of your arm length, you tighten the grip with your feet and change the hand holding the silk.”

Victor chuckled, Yuuri had sounded admired but also slightly jealous. That was good. Competitiveness was something he could take advantage of.

He taught him a couple of simple figures and Victor had less luck in replicating them than he had with the climb but that got Yuuri to relax, so it was a win nonetheless. After he managed an acceptable hip key, earning himself Yuuri’s praise, he looked at him expectantly.

“Do you have any routine from past recitals or from your training?” he asked.

“Yes, but… I don’t know, they're probably boring...”

“Please! You got to see my goofy attempts for almost an hour now!”

“They weren’t goofy! You are very good for being new to this!”

“Thank you! So, as a reward, could you dance for me?”

Now, Yuuri had dreamt about the Victor Nikiforov asking him ‘Could you dance for me?’ with those exact same words so many times that he couldn’t count them and he was once again struggling to acknowledge that the situation he was in was a real one. He just nodded, a little taken aback.

He took his phone and selected the song from the last routine he created, then he gave it to Victor, who was now standing next to him.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Victor pressed play and he started dancing. The music was totally different from what Victor would expect, it was electronic, dark, with heavy beats and a repetitive chorus. It started slowly and Yuuri walked around the silk. He climbed in few quick motions and he moved to gradually create a knot with the cloth around his body to support himself. The music changed with a heavy drop, and Yuuri arched his body in time, letting his arms and legs loose. Victor’s mouth went dry. Scratch the onsen and scratch Yuuri’s mother’s cooking, THIS was the most amazing thing he had ever seen. Yuuri continued, contracting his torso and bringing his arms and legs up. He untied himself and changed the position, this time he was on his side and Victor thought that the figure was definitely recognizable as the hip key that Yuuri had taught him, but it looked far more graceful than when he did it. From there, he shifted the silk and then his grip before bringing one of his legs in his arms and pulling it up in a split. The way in which the silk hugged his body and the strength and elegance with which he danced around it hiding the effort was doing funny things to Victor’s insides. No wonder he had been dazed by his firm and at the same time gentle hold during Chris’ lesson in Tokyo if this was how he trained. The sequence continued with a sort of flip with which he turned upside down before tying himself again and slowly descending with a series of turns. He distantly remembered Chris talking to him about seeing Yuuri pole dancing and he realized that he could understand now what he had meant. When the music stopped, he needed a few more seconds to compose himself but Yuuri was busy catching his breath and didn’t notice.

“Yuuri!! That was beautiful! Did you create the choreography yourself?”

He smiled tentatively and when he answered, his voice was practically a whisper:

“Yes, I wanted to try something different from classical music for once. I only used this sequence to train, anyways, so it was not meant for other people... Only Phichit-kun saw it.”

“It’s very good. You really have a talent for choreographing.”

Yuuri took two deep breaths trying not to protest and his answer came out choked.

“T-thank you.”

“Wait! The drapes! In your ‘Stay Close to Me’ choreography! Did you get the idea from the aerial silks?”

Yuuri scratched the back of his neck.

“Yes, it was probably stupid.”

“On the contrary, it was creative. It’s good to draw inspiration from various things, especially in neo-classical dance, otherwise, you’ll only end up doing slightly less uptight variations. I use to choreograph jazz or contemporary _piéces_ sometimes for this same reason.”

Yuuri blushed and he seemed conflicted for a while, then he decided to go for it:

“I-I know, you said that in an interview once. That’s the reason why I chose electronic rock for my aerial dance routine.”

Victor didn’t remember talking about that but it was plausible. He did remember, though, Yuuri telling him that he had always admired him and that picture on Phichit’s Instagram page in which a much younger Yuuri held a poster of him as a lucky charm. A lot of people had _admired_ him because he was something pretty to watch but this was different: Yuuri had been _inspired_ by him to create choreographies of his own. ‘I just want you to be Victor’ Yuuri had told him and now it occurred to Victor just how much that meant to him. He wished he could be up to the task.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you've been surprised by the aerial dance! I wanted to give Yuuri a reason to be so good at pole dancing and I didn't see him actually practicing it, so I went with aerial silks. The techniques are different but they have some similarities and I completely love aerial silks! In case you are wondering, the hip key is the most basic figure ever and it is used to build up a lot of advanced figures, it looks like this:  
> .  
> The song Yuuri dances to is "Sail" from Awolnation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JaAWdljhD5o  
> And, as usual, the choreography is mine even if this time I couldn't try it completely because I can't do two of the figures I used (yet). I'm studying them, though, so I know that they should fit the music if done correctly.  
> See you next week!


	13. How can I be worthy of it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " “Phichit-kun, even if I saw the pictures and I know what happened that night, I was drunk and Victor probably was too, it meant nothing...”  
> “What?? No… I’m sure it meant something to him!”  
> “I… I don’t think so. He never talked about it and... Come on, it’s already difficult for me to accept that Victor is in Japan, choreographing a _piéce_ for my audition, you can’t possibly ask me to believe also that he might _like_ me!”  
>  "
> 
> \--
> 
> Where two idiots in love can't figure out that their feelings are reciprocated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Get ready for a whole lot of new misunderstandings! Why can't those two just talk to one another??  
> I promise that there will be some fluff, too. I hope you'll like it!  
> Italian Bolshoi Gala we are coming!

After that awkward first day, things actually began to get better. Yuuri discovered that every time he took a step towards Victor, Victor would give him space and meet him where he was. He strangely felt at ease around him, which was incredibly weird considering that Victor was the only person he had ever admired in his life, the one he had always idolized and looked up to. He knew that he had always had also some sort of childish crush on him, if his past experiences in dating someone where anything to go by. He had always been attracted, as Phichit never failed to point out, to guys that reminded him of Victor in some way. Now he was getting to know _him_ , the real person behind the legend, and he was completely different from what he had possibly imagined. He was cheerful and funny, he would put his heart and soul into practicing and a second later he would get excited about something incredibly trivial and forget everything about it. He was kind to everyone and he basked in other people’s appreciation but what he really loved were simple things like home-cooked meals or walking on the beach in the mornings. Yuuri could almost see him as a _normal_ person and admit to himself that he was kind of starting to _like_ him, if it wasn’t that when he started dancing, he would painfully bring him back to reality. He was Victor Nikiforov, meaning he was completely out of his league with the exception of one momentary lapse in judgment caused by a drunken night at a club. The only thing he could do was to appreciate every second he had with him, to treasure every glance he could cast in his direction or every word he could exchange with him. It didn’t help that Victor was a very _very_ touchy-feely person, but he was getting better at handling it. 

As the days went by, they managed to make progress in their dance practice. Victor showed him his usual _barre_ routine and they alternated dancing in Minako’s studio and cross-training with Yuuri’s aerial silks or by going for runs or to the gym. Sometimes, in the late afternoons or evenings, they would go on _dates_ as Victor called them, even if obviously not in the romantic sense of the term. They went to the seaside, sightseeing around the town or trying out different restaurants for dinner or just remained to unwind in the Hotel. Yuuri taught Victor how to play video games and basic Japanese sentences and Victor introduced Yuuri to awful tv programmes and soap operas and phrasing in Russian.

They decided to postpone the thinking up of the choreography until after their short trip to Italy and they were sticking to exercises or variations that both of them already knew. Victor had insisted that Yuuri showed him the main characters’ dances for every Ballet, even if he told him that he didn’t usually have those roles working in the Detroit Ballet Company. The first one had been Oberon’s dance. 

Yuuri was terrified because Victor’s version of that _piéce_ was one of his favorite performances ever. He had tried it and he was so nervous that he flubbed the _jetés_ and almost couldn’t manage to do the final _pirouéttes_. Victor had frowned but he wasn’t disappointed, only confused. From that moment on, Yuuri had been struggling internally because, on one hand, he wanted to tell Victor about his anxiety issues in order for him to understand why sometimes it looked like he couldn’t even dance the simplest choreography. On the other, he was afraid that the admission would result in Victor flying away as fast as he could. The latter was always winning in the end, therefore he never said anything about it and Victor was still puzzled every time Yuuri claimed that he needed to stop the practice or failed a move that he had repeated effortlessly countless of times before.

The day they left for the Italian Bolshoi Gala, Yuuri was feeling particularly badly. He was happy because he would be seeing Phichit again but he would also need to face Celestino and his former mates for the first time since he left the Company. He hadn’t been able to sleep at all and his eyes were awfully red and puffy. Victor stared at him the whole time while they boarded their plane in questioning silence. Yuuri didn’t know what to say as an excuse so he tried to offer an apologetic smile and pretended to fall asleep as soon as they reached their spots.

Victor wasn’t stupid. He understood that Yuuri was hiding something from him, he just didn’t know how to ask him what it was without being too intrusive since they were trying to keep their relationship strictly professional. When they were in Tokyo, he had been confident in his decision, it had been an impulsive one, sure, but he knew that he could help Yuuri and if that meant that he could spend more time with him, even better. When he asked him out to make his announcement, before Phichit’s and Chris’ interruption, he had meant for that to be a sort of date, but Yuuri never showed any sign of interest in that sense nor brought up the topic and Victor didn’t want to push it. 

Since then, they had made a lot of progress, they were actually doing great in practice now and they were doing things together more often than not, but every time Victor would say words such as ‘date’, Yuuri would laugh or shut him off as if it was a joke. Seeing that Yuuri always tensed with any kind of physical contact, he tried to hold back from those, too. In the end, he came to think that maybe Yuuri was afraid that he was helping with his dancing just because he liked him and Victor feared that Yuuri would send him away if he gave him more reasons to suspect that. It wasn’t true, of course, he wanted to help him because Yuuri was an amazing dancer who deserved to have his chance to shine and to show the World his true beauty and talent and he had trusted Victor enough to ask him. If anything, it was Victor who at first thought that Yuuri was using the whole ‘mentor’ thing as an excuse to be with him and he had immediately been proven wrong. 

Even if it had nothing to do with the reason why he was in Japan, though, Victor had come to realize that he _did_ like Yuuri. It was something he had suspected for a while and in the last days, he became certain of it. He had found himself on the cusp of trying to kiss him exactly 12 times, he had counted them, but he had always stepped back and Yuuri pretended he didn’t notice. He repeated himself that it was better that way, they needed to figure out their professional relationship first. He didn’t want Yuuri to think that he might have an ulterior motive to be there and he needed to hide his feelings to do that. He was happy to be able to spend time with him either way and if Yuuri wanted only his dancing, he would give that to him. Dancing was the most precious thing that he had and it was a big enough sign of his affection that he was willing to give it all to him: all of his dancing skills, all of the techniques and the pieces of advice that he could think of. He wasn’t scared of being left empty because Yuuri deserved it. He could even stop dancing for good if it was for him. The thought was mildly scary but he had never felt that much alive and he was discovering completely new emotions every day through Yuuri so he knew that it was the right choice.

He looked at the sleeping figure at his side and his thoughts were once again interrupted by concern. Whatever it was that Yuuri wasn’t telling him, was clearly bothering him. He spoke to him softly, voice barely louder than a whisper:

“You should sleep for a while, Yuuri, we’ll need to meet Yakov and the others when we land, so we won’t have much time.”

“I know.” He answered with a distant voice. Victor was about to admit defeat again when he got an idea:

“Would you like to listen to my playlist of ‘maybe songs’?”

Yuuri perked up at that, a spark of curiosity in his eyes.

“What are your ‘maybe songs’?”

“I always keep a playlist with all the songs that somehow inspire me to shuffle through when I want to create a new choreography. Since I decided to mentor you for your next audition, I started one of those for you, too. Since you aren’t sleeping, we can listen to it if you want.”

Yuuri lit up.

“I’d love that.”

“Okay, let me take my headphones.”

Victor searched through his bag until he found his earbuds, then he offered one to Yuuri. As he took it, his hands were slightly trembling with emotion. Victor had created a playlist with music chosen for him?

Victor’s heart melted at the sight. He selected the playlist and pressed play. There were very different songs in there, some music from Ballets, others suitable for neo-classical _piéces_ , others completely unrelated but that they could use for experimenting or improving their interpretation. Yuuri listened intently to the selection, wrinkling his nose in concentration and tapping with his fingers on his thigh in time. Victor thought that it was the cutest thing ever, until he looked better and he had to think again because he wasn’t tapping, he was making his fingers dance without even realizing it. He was already lost in the process of creating choreographies, letting himself be carried away to wherever the music lead him. Victor stared at him in awe, it was something that apparently happened a lot lately. 

After a while, “Stay Close to Me” started playing and Victor’s hand joined Yuuri’s on his dancing. Yuuri winced but as soon as his surprise faded, his lips opened in a smile. They mimicked the opening of Yuuri’s dance. At the end of the part that he had done with Phichit, now interpreted by Victor’s index and middle finger, instead of separating from each other, they almost simultaneously shifted to Victor’s choreography that Yuuri knew by heart from watching it many times in videos. They returned to Yuuri’s for the duet part, that they had danced together in Tokyo. When the music finished they were both giggling and silently wondering how beautiful it would be to dance to that together for real since the two choreographies mingled together perfectly in a _pas de deux_. 

They failed to notice how their hands were still joined on Yuuri’s leg when the next song began.

 

After listening to Victor’s playlist, Yuuri managed to sleep for a while and when they landed, he was feeling a lot better. The majority of the songs included in the selection were completely unexpected, which shouldn’t have surprised him, considering that Victor had always had the innate ability to go against every expectation. His heart and mind were full of different emotions carried by the different types of music and his inspiration was running freely. His fingers and toes itched with the need to dance, to move, to create something even if he knew that he couldn’t do that. The day was supposed to be about his reconciliation with Celestino and about supporting Yuri Plisetsky.

Yakov had complained and yelled at Victor but he booked for them a room in the same hotel where he and the other dancers were staying and gave Victor a pass to enter the Theatre and the backstage, nonetheless. They were arriving one day in advance and staying two more days after the performance to play tourists because despite being used to long travels in short periods of time due to their profession, they had no short-term obligations so they could afford it.

As soon as they reached the hotel, Victor left to look for Yakov while Yuuri stayed in the room to unpack some of their things. Phichit told him that the plane from Detroit would land in the evening, so he still had a few hours to himself before meeting with him. Without thinking much about it, he pushed the beds away from the center of the room and near the window and opened his music app, where he had just downloaded Victor’s playlist. He selected the random mode and pressed play, moving to stand in the open space he had just created and letting the music flow through his body. He was completely in his own world when a few songs later the door opened and Victor entered and froze mid step. 

A minute passed that way, then the music faded and Yuuri did one last _pirouétte_ and took a pose. His eyes met Victor’s and he hoped that the floor could open and bury him whole.

“I-I’m sorry!” he babbled, completely flustered.

That snapped Victor out of his stupor.

“About what? It was beautiful! Is it my music selection?”

“Yeah...”

Victor’s eyes glinted as he hurried to the phone and skipped a few songs to select the one he was looking for. As the first notes began he looked at Yuuri.

“What do you say? Shall we give it a try?”

Yuuri’s eyes widened when he recognized the song, then he nodded sheepishly.

They took the position and started the dance as they had planned it with their hands on the plane. It was more difficult to move the entirety of their bodies in sync than it had been with just their fingers and they crashed against the nightstands and the edge of the bed more than a few times but they managed to actually plot the choreography. They were grinning excitedly. As expected, it looked very good.

“I think in this part we should change the transition and insert one extra spin.” Victor commented, showing the move to Yuuri.

“Hm… I don’t know, isn’t a spin too much? Maybe an _allongé_ or a _port de bras_ would be better?”

Yuuri’s voice was tentative, and he didn’t meet Victor’s eyes. Victor blinked. No one had questioned his decisions about a dance for a very long time. Except for Yakov, of course, but he had never in his life listened to Yakov, so that didn’t count. He was about to counter because it was true that he liked Yuuri, his dancing and his talent for choreography but, come on, he was _Victor Nikiforov_! Then he took a breath and actually pictured the image of the dance in his mind and… He was right. He repeated is thought out loud, unable to believe what he was saying.

“You are right.”

Yuuri’s face was priceless, equally part flustered and proud and Victor was starstruck: from the first moment he met him, the Japanese dancer had never failed to surprise him.

 

Among the Bolshoi students, dancers and teachers, and the guest Companies, the hotel was full and bursting with anticipations. The Bolshoi Gala was one of the most awaited events of the year for everyone who had an interest in Ballet in general and even more so for the ones that had chosen it as their profession. Yuri would be lying to himself if he said that he wasn’t nervous about dancing a solo variation there. It was important for him to prove himself because, even if people always said that he had already a spot with his name on it in the Company for the following year, he knew that it wasn’t true. 

He had worked hard to obtain his position and he deserved that spot but it wasn’t due to, he still needed to earn it and he was going to start doing that with this show. It had been stupid for him to risk losing this chance by going to Japan and it was a mistake he was not going to do a second time. He cared about Victor but he didn’t need him, he had been on his own in dancing for his whole life since his parents never approved of his decision and he was strong enough to handle it. He was grateful to Yakov who always supported him, to Mila and Victor and even to stupid Yuuri who has been one of his main sources of inspiration for many years, but he needed to do this on his own. He was young but he was strong enough and he knew that he was a good dancer, better than most. That was what he had always been telling himself when his determination was scrambling.

In Russia, he had worked hard with Lilia to polish his technique and to study every aspect of his variation. She had helped him learn to pour his confused feelings, his anger and his frustration in the interpretation and he could see that both he and the performance had benefitted from it. He couldn’t exactly sort his feelings out, yet, but he felt calmer with every passing day. He would get there and he would show it to everyone with his dancing.

He was walking along the corridor, looking for Victor, when he heard a familiar voice:

“Phichit-kun!!!”

He stepped in the direction of the voice in time to see the most awkward and embarrassing scene displaying in front of him.

 

Phichit didn’t have time to process what was happening when a - thankfully thin - enthusiast man crushed onto him, sending him to the floor in a mess of limbs.

“Hello to you, Yuuri!” he answered, returning the hug. From between his friend’s hair, he spotted Victor who was standing not much far with his ears pink and his brow furrowed. He chuckled, then he feigned disbelief and gasped, calling out to him.

“Victor!! What have you done to Yuuri! He is hugging me!”

Victor took some steps forward.

“I-I did nothing!”

Yuuri chuckled, nuzzling Phichit’s neck.

“Come on, Phichit-kun, we slept together hand in hand and now you are shocked by a little hug!”

“Now who’s the one to use that against me?”

They both laughed before starting to disentangle themselves. Victor felt like he was intruding something but he didn’t want to leave, either, and Phichit had called him there, right?

“It’s good to see you!” Phichit continued and Yuuri whined in response.

“It’s been so long!”

“It’s been only a couple of days.” Intervened Victor. The other two turned to him with mirroring glares from their position still on the floor and he held his hands up in a surrender pose.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Phichit was feeling a little giddy. He was happy to see Yuuri like that, free, unabashed, peaceful. He knew that it was partly thanks to Victor so he reached out a hand and dragged the Russian into the hug. He could see both he and Yuuri hesitate for a second before letting themselves be carried by him with a shrug and a sheepish smile. He said nothing but the confusion was clear in his features, they should have already solved their misunderstandings and started to walk together towards the horizon, what was happening?

Yuri, who was now towering over the dancers’ pile on the floor, interrupted Phichit's train of thoughts yelling:

“What are you three idiots doing?”

At the unmistakable angry voice, Yuuri immediately straightened, causing Victor to lose his balance and fall face first over Phichit who shrieked for the surprise.

“Hi, Yuri, how are you? Ready for tomorrow?”

Yuri blinked. Only when Victor got up, too and looked at him, he mumbled:

“Hi, yes I am. Thank you.”

“Don’t worry little Yuri, we were just saying hello to each other. Do you want a hug too?” Asked Phichit, trying to keep the atmosphere easy.

Yuri looked at him in complete horror.

“No thanks.” He didn’t spare another glance with Phichit or Yuuri after that, turning instead to Victor and saying dryly:

“Yakov wants to know if you are coming to dinner with us.”

Victor looked at Yuuri, who smiled softly and answered his unspoken question:

“Sure, go with them. I’ll find Celestino and the others and I’ll see you later.”

“Okay, good luck!”

“Thank you, Victor.”

They parted and as soon as Victor and Yuri were out of sight, Phichit gave Yuuri a pointed look and asked:

“Why don’t you explain to me what’s happening with Victor? Why are you still so weird around each other?”

“What? We are not weird, why would you say that?”

“You mean that you aren’t together?”

“Of course not! Why would we be? He is just helping me with my dancing!”

“But... You spent an entire night dancing together and talking and laughing and...”

“Phichit-kun, even if I saw the pictures and I know what happened that night, I was drunk and Victor probably was too, it meant nothing...”

“What?? No… I’m sure it meant something to him!”

“I… I don’t think so. He never talked about it and... Come on, it’s already difficult for me to accept that Victor is in Japan, choreographing a _piéce_ for my audition, you can’t possibly ask me to believe also that he might _like_ me!”

Phichit honestly didn’t know how to answer to that. He had assumed that Victor’s will to stay in Japan wasn’t only due to the mentoring. Could he really have been wrong about them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! I know that they are frustrating but we can't have Victuuri without miscommunication, sooo...   
> I promise things will sort themselves out soon! They have already come a long way!   
> Let me know what you think, see you next week! <3


	14. A good way to start as any

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " “Wow. So if Victor doesn’t give him an undeniable proof, he won’t be able to acknowledge that their attraction is mutual and will always shy away.”
> 
> “Right, and since Victor thinks he is _respecting_ him by detaching himself he won’t do anything.”
> 
> “Man, I can’t believe it! So, what’s the plan, partner?” "
> 
> \--
> 
> It appears that we are in need of a second project...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to everyone! We are back on track and you may have noticed that I updated the number of chapters! I finally finished planning out the in-betweens, so I guess we are gradually approaching the end of this journey! If I dwell too much on some scenes the number could increase up to 18 but I don't think it's very likely, maybe I'll add another bonus chapter!  
> Also, I started writing a new fic which I hope I'll be able to post as soon as this one ends, I'll tell you more about it in the next updates!  
> Enjoy the chapter!

Yuri woke up the following morning with an awfully weird feeling in his gut. The evening had been pretty uneventful, just the usual yelling between Victor and Yakov to spice the otherwise flat conversations between boring old people. He knew it was early but he decided to go grab something for breakfast either way. He slipped on a pair of slacks and an oversized hoodie and tied up his golden hair in a small bun behind his head before heading downstairs where the Hotel restaurant was.

The room was almost empty and the few people present seemed lost in their thoughts or still asleep. He surveyed the long buffet table and chose a bowl of cereals and some fruit. He had to dance in the evening and he didn’t want to feel sick because he ate too few or too much during the day, a lesson he had learned from past experiences.

While he was walking to an empty table, he noticed someone sitting by himself in the farthest corner of the room from the entrance, looking like he was trying to hide. He took a deep breath. He had decided to try and sort through his feelings, it was a good way to start as any, wasn’t it?

He stepped closer to the figure and waved.

“Good morning, mind if I sit here?”

Yuuri was looking intently at his untouched plate, unfocused. The voice brought him back to the present.

“Sure, good morning to you, Yuri.”

“I...” Yuri cleared his throat and talked in a hushed voice. “I wanted to apologize. When we met in Moscow… You were right, I was anxious for many different reasons and I wasn’t expecting to see you. I didn’t know what to do because we had never really talked to each other but I had always admired you since I saw Midsummer Night’s Dream. I knew that you couldn’t possibly remember me and I yelled at you for no reason just to vent my frustration… then at the Dance Week, I kept being mean when you were only being nice to me. So… I’m sorry, I guess.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Thank you, Yuri. I… I’m happy to see that you feel better. Don’t worry, I understand anxiety and frustration very well, you don’t have to apologize.”

“But I want to, I’m trying to behave less like a crazy person.”

“You didn't act like a crazy person, you are just very stressed. We all are, this job that we do is insane and you are so young, it’s completely normal to feel overwhelmed sometimes.”

Yuri bit his lip. It was nice to hear someone saying that to him.

“Can I… Ask you something?”

“Sure!” 

“When you moved to Detroit and then tried the audition in Russia… How did you know that Ballet was the right choice?”

Yuuri smiled at him softly and sighed.

“I didn’t... I don’t actually. I grew up watching the Bolshoi’s shows on television and it was the only thing that could make me smile when I had a bad day at school or something. The moments I spent in the Dance Studio were the only ones in which I felt completely free and happy. I just wanted to be like _him_.”

Yuri didn’t need to ask who he was referring to, it was a feeling he shared. They really were very similar. He heard himself saying:

“Sometimes I’m scared. My parents don’t want me to waste my time at the Academy.”

“I’m sorry about that. I know how hard it can be. Luckily, my parents always approved of my choices but… I don’t know what I could have done without them. No wonder you are so stressed.”

Yuuri put his hand on top of Yuri’s arm in a comforting gesture, much like he had done back in Tokyo. Then he continued with a lower voice.

“You need to do what you think is right, it’s your life, not theirs in the end. You are not alone in doing it, you have your teachers at the Academy and you have Victor and your friends. When I moved to Detroit, I felt lonely at first, then I met Phichit and he became a sort of a second family to me, you know?”

“Yeah… I used to always hide in Victor’s apartment when I was angry or sad...”

“And you will be able to do it again, Victor will come back soon.”

“But I don’t want him to feel bound to be with me.”

“He doesn’t feel bound, he cares about you and he wants to do it!”

Yuri hummed and muttered:

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Yuuri...”

“Yes?”

“I really look forward to working with you at the Bolshoi.”

 

The show that night was amazing, Yuri looked so beautiful and powerful on the stage, his determination and his will to prove himself were as clear as day. Yuuri knew that he had no right to be but he felt incredibly proud of him, who was growing up and becoming an amazing and strong person. He had run away from his room that morning to avoid waking up next to Victor because he had had trouble sleeping yet again and it would have been difficult to hide his anxiety to him in that moment. Finding Yuri so fragile and open at the restaurant and talking to him had really helped him sort through his own feelings, too. It had been good to finally see him being honest with himself and with the others. He was still a little shocked that the Russian had decided to have that kind of conversation with _him_ , of all people, but he couldn’t deny that he was glad. He hadn’t told Victor, feeling yet again the sensation that it was something only between the two of them but he had gone back to his room more confident than before. 

The sight of Victor, sleepily rolling onto his back before slowly opening his eyes and waking up made Yuuri’s chest warm and his cheeks red. He felt like he was intruding in a moment that was not for him but he couldn’t bring himself to stop looking. Then, Victor had smiled at him saying “G’morning...” and Yuuri had practically melted on his spot. He opened and closed his mouth like a washed-up fish before managing an answer. They had finished getting ready for the day and went visiting the Theatre with the Russian group.

Yuuri had spent the previous night catching up with his mates from the Detroit Ballet and apologizing more times than necessary with Celestino, who had been happy to see him and encouraged him to take his time to see what was best for his future. His previous director had always been a kind and understanding man and Yuuri didn’t know why he had been worried about meeting him. He thought that taking that away from his chest would have made him relax from his tension but he went to sleep still feeling anxious and he couldn’t shake the sensation no matter what he did. He had tried his best to keep himself quiet so as not to wake Victor and he hoped he had been successful. In any case, Victor said nothing about it.

After the show, the Italians organizing the event offered a banquet, with music, food and champagne and they were all invited to attend despite Victor and Yuuri weren’t on the original guest list. They walked the short path from the Theatre to the building where the celebration was being held as a group and the pleasant feeling of being among friends that they weren’t able to see often made Yuuri relax for the first time since the day before the departure. It occurred to him, then, that even if it had been a while since he quitted his job at the Detroit Ballet Company, this event was the first he was attending with them without being a part of _them_ and that this was probably the cause, or at least one of the main causes, for the persistent uneasiness that had been haunting him. The realization let him put his feelings in place but it also came with the acknowledgment that there, with Victor on one side and Phichit on the other, he could not bring himself to feel lonely or left aside. On the contrary, it was exactly where he belonged. He let his lips open in a wide smile and sneaked closer to Phichit, who saw the change in his expression and answered in the same way.

The banquet hall was amazing, there were chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, three long tables with a golden and white cloth on them and chairs scattered around, decorated in red and gold. Yuuri breathed, taking it all in.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He asked Victor.

“Yes, they really surpassed themselves this time. The party for our last Gala was in a smaller place and the decorations were less sophisticated. This is really amazing.”

“Vee, Yuuri! Hi! How are you two lovebirds?”

Yuuri turned around to hide his embarrassment but Victor was unfazed by the comment and simply answered:

“Hello to you, Chris! We didn’t see you at the show! Glad you could make it. We are fine and you?”

“As always! So, how are things in Japan?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Victor chuckled.

“It’s not what you think, Chris, we are practicing.”

Yuuri was about to combust on the spot, so he ran away, yelling that he had to find Phichit.

Chris was perplexed, he looked at Victor more seriously this time.

“Why do you hide it? You were basically together already in Tokyo, is he really that shy when sober?”

“We are not hiding anything.” Victor sighed. “There’s nothing happening between us. At first, I tried to be more affectionate with him. When I saw that he always flinched at the gesture, I stopped. We do a lot of things together but if I so much as suggest that we are going on a date he doesn’t take it seriously. I think that he doesn’t want to be with me because he is afraid that it will affect my judgment on his performances.”

“In a way, it makes sense. It’s a pity, you were so cute at the club!”

“I really do like him but I want to respect his decision.”

Chris gave him a sad but sympathetic smile. 

“Yeah, I know. Maybe after the audition?”

“We’ll see, I suppose. For now, I’m okay with this. The hardest part has been when I saw him do the aerial dance. He was so hot, I thought I was going to die!”

“Aerial dance? Wow! I need to see it!”

“No, you don’t! You already saw him pole dancing, it’s enough!”

Chris chuckled.

“Don’t be jealous, darling, I love you too much to take him away from you.”

“I know.”

The silence that fell between the two was wistful and Chris hated it. He understood his friend’s concern and he didn’t want to make the matter worse by insisting on talking about it. He decided to try and cheer him up in his own way.

“Shall we dance? For old time’s sake?” He offered his hand and a sly smirk.

Victor laughed as he took it.

“I could never refuse you, dear!”

They moved to the center of the room and started dancing, laughing and teasing each other like they used to do every time they met. They had never actually been a couple, but they had always played around it and it showed in every one of their movements, unbothered by the close proximity or the silliness of the entire situation. Then again, being the only one to dance in the middle of a banquet hall with random background music and every eye on them, wasn’t even close to being the most embarrassing thing they had done together.

Yuuri was on the side of the impromptu dance floor that was now starting to fill up with people and was watching the scene with amusement and maybe a little bit of jealousy.

“You should see your expression. You look at him like he is holding the sun.” Commented Phichit, elbowing him playfully in the ribs to get his attention.

He sighed. “Phichit-kun, please, let’s not talk about this again!”

“Fine, fine… Can you promise me one thing, though?”

“What is it?”

“Try to look at him. For real. I know that you doubt yourself and that you think you have all figured out, just… For a moment, I want you to breathe, clear your mind completely and forget that he is _Victor Nikiforov_ and just _watch_ him. The way he is around you, the way he smiles at you, how he always tries to be a little closer than necessary. Don’t tell me he is like that with everyone because he is not. He really is not.”

“How can you say that? In this exact moment he is all over Chris, it’s undeniable that he is a touchy person!”

“Yes but… Can’t you see it’s different? That, between them, right now, it’s a game. He is different with you.”

“I… Fine, I’ll try.”

And he really did. He closed his eyes and just breathed. He couldn’t stop feeling like he wasn’t worthy of him but he couldn’t deny anything to Phichit after everything the man had done for him. When he opened his eyes, he looked at Victor and it really seemed like it was the first time. Victor was dancing with Chris and it was clear that he was having fun with his friend but his attention never fully left Yuuri. Every now and then he would gaze at him and his smile would soften, his eyes slightly lidded and the point of his ears a deeper pink. It was like falling into a whirlpool or floating on air. Could it be possible? For real? Could Victor really be interested in someone like him?

Phichit was talking to him but he couldn’t hear over the buzzing in his ears and the sound of his hammering heart. He exchanged a look with his friend, not trusting his words but knowing that the message would reach him nonetheless and he moved, making a beeline for the Russian. He shook his head to snap out of his stupor and asked:

“W-would you dance with me?”

Victor stopped abruptly. His eyes widened almost comically as he took in Yuuri and his determined even if still unsure expression.

“Yes. Yes, of course I would!”

He pushed Chris and outright draped his arms over Yuuri’s shoulder, before adding.

“I thought you would never ask.”

Chris just chuckled, stepping away with mock misery, saying that he could recognize it when he was being rejected.

“They are exhausting, aren’t they?” Said Phichit, approaching him.

“You said it.” Answered Chris, his eyes glinting with mirth.

“We can’t leave them alone for two seconds that they take one hundred steps backward!”

“It’s not exactly like that, Victor is trying to respect Yuuri’s wish to keep their relationship professional.”

Phichit snorted.

“What? Yuuri’s wish?”

“He said that Yuuri doesn’t want him to lose objectivity in judging his dancing due to his feelings.”

“You are kidding me.”

Chris turned and saw Phichit’s incredulous expression.

“Wait, are you saying that it isn’t true?”

“Of course not! Yuuri thinks that he is not good enough for Victor and can’t see what’s right in front of his face!”

“I… What?? How can he doubt himself? He is beautiful and funny and an amazing dancer!”

“You think that I know? I tried so many times to prove to him that he has no reason to...”

“Wow. So if Victor doesn’t give him an undeniable proof, he won’t be able to acknowledge that their attraction is mutual and will always shy away.”

“Right, and since Victor thinks he is _respecting_ him by detaching himself he won’t do anything.”

“Man, I can’t believe it! So, what’s the plan, partner?”

Phichit smirked.

“It appears that my career in making plans for Yuuri isn’t over yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a long story, I’ll tell you about it later, if you want. Now we have work to do, _partner_!”

They focused back on their friends dancing together, both thinking about what they could do to help them, in time to notice that their meddling wouldn’t probably be needed anymore. Victor and Yuuri were looking at one another almost reverently, with smiles fond and open, their fingers intertwined as they glided around the floor, easily avoiding the other people thanks to the natural grace and elegance that their profession provided and without once breaking the eye contact.

“Tch. This makes me want to barf.” An annoyed voice interrupted Phichit’s and Chris’ staring. Chris raised a brow and smiled at the younger Russian beside him.

“Come on, Yuri! We know you are happy for them, too, you don’t need to hide it with us.”

“Whatever.”

His lips were downturned, but it was evident that he was forcing the sour expression on himself. The glint in his eyes betrayed him. Chris patted his head with a knowing look and Yuri shook him off, protesting loudly and gritting his teeth.

“Congratulations, by the way, you have been amazing tonight. If they don’t admit you in the Company after that, they are fools.”

“It’s true!” Echoed Phichit. “Your technique has always been perfect, but tonight your performance has also been astonishingly moving, you were really on point up there.”

Yuri’s cheeks reddened and he moved his head in the way he used to bring his bangs down on his face and hide it, before remembering that he had his hair still styled in a bun, which made the gesture useless and his flush even worse.

“Thank you.” He muttered.

They joined their friends on the dance floor after that, all five of them enjoying the last glimpses of the night that was coming to its end. Everyone complimented Yuri with similar praises and Yuuri exchanged with him a secret, meaningful smile. The young Russian felt happy and proud and, maybe for the first time, he actually felt _loved_. Those people that he had always insulted and treated badly, were supporting him and were celebrating with him. He felt his heart filling with warmth and he forgot to scowl in response.

 

In the morning of the second day, Yuuri forced himself not to flee from the room. He opened his eyes slowly, evening his breath and putting a hand on his heart to steady its rhythm. His eyes met the blue ones on the other side and he had to use every inch of his resolve not to hide under the covers.

“Good morning, Victor.” He said tentatively. The other smiled, soft, calm, content.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, and you?”

Victor nodded.

“You didn’t abandon me for breakfast today.”

It wasn’t a question but Yuuri confirmed nonetheless.

“No, w-would you like to go? With me, I mean...”

“It would be amazing.”

They dressed casually and went to the restaurant. The Russians had already left with an early flight, while Phichit and some of the other dancers were still lingering in the Hotel, checking out and waiting for the time of their planned departure. 

After breakfast, Yuuri left Victor to go find Phichit. The first day, they had been with Celestino and the others and the second one, they had been distracted by the show and then by the banquet so they didn’t have time for themselves, but he didn’t want to make the same mistake as he had at the Dance Week. 

“Phichit-kun!” He called as soon as he saw him.

“Hi, Yuuri! Are you running away from Victor again?”

“No, I’m not, we just had breakfast together. He can wait, now it’s friendship time! You’ll have to leave soon and we haven’t got a chance to properly talk, yet.”

“You are right! I don’t want to say goodbye to you so soon!”

“Me neither. Let’s go.”

They moved to a couch in the hall and sat down to talk. After a while, Yuuri decided it was time to address the topic:

“Did you decide something about whether to stay with the Company or not?”

“Not yet. I want to talk to Celestino like you suggested, but I haven’t asked him yet, I’m still thinking about what to say to him.”

“You don’t need to feel any pressure but whatever you say to him, I really think it could help you, remember how scared I was last day before I met him?”

“Yes, yet we had a lot of fun at dinner! I think he is envious that with Victor you actually dance the main roles.”

“Yeah… I probably shouldn’t have told him...”

“No, I think he is happy for you.”

“I think so, too. What about Chris? Did you talk to him?”

“Yes, he said that if I decide to do the audition I can just call him or send him an e-mail and he will find some time to schedule it. He already knows how I dance, so the process is a little simpler.”

“That’s good! It would be a big change.”

“Yeah... I think I need some more time to think about it.”

“It’s understandable. If you ever need something, call me, okay?”

“Yeah, you too. Call me, every day, every time!”

Yuuri chuckled.

“Of course.”

“And I know that we are talking about me and we’ll continue later, I promise, but… Please, Yuuri, remember that you deserve to be happy and loved despite what you think of yourself, ok?”

“I’m trying, Phichit-kun, really. Thank you for yesterday.”

Phichit hummed his approval and they kept talking until it was time for him to leave. They hugged and almost managed not to cry, promising that they would see each other as soon as possible. They caught up with the other members of the Detroit Ballet that were gathered in front of the Hotel and Yuuri said goodbye to all of them, apologizing and thanking them again. Celestino was the last one to hug him and he held him tightly, saying that if Yuuri ever wanted to go back to the Company, there was a place for him and that in any case, he was proud of him. That was the last straw for Yuuri that had barely held himself together and burst out crying but the tears were full of gratitude. Then, they left and Yuuri returned to Victor to really begin their sightseeing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the end, we didn't need the new plan, Phichit can relax and breathe! I hope you aren't disappointed, I wanted Victor and Yuuri to take this little step by themselves. In any case, thank you for reading!! As usual, if you want, let me know what you think!


	15. Competition of tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The truth is that he had fallen in love with dance in the form of Victor Nikiforov from the very first time he saw him perform and he didn’t know how to give either of them a new shape, so he didn’t think he was capable of loving either of them apart. Dancing and love and Victor were all one and the same in his heart but he knew that it wasn’t right."
> 
> \--
> 
> You really expected the angst to be over, I presume.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm sorry I'm a bit late but in order to make up for it, I posted a little one-shot in addition to the chapter! It is unrelated to this fic and it has YurixYuuri as a pair instead of VictorxYuuri, if you want to check it out, you can find it [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13631610)! Also, I'll probably post the first chapter of my next fic at the same time as the last chapter of this and I'm very excited about it! It's going to be very different from this but it is still an AU and it's obviously still YOI!  
> I won't say happy reading because... well... You'll see... But I hope you'll like the chapter nonetheless!

To say Yuuri had come to accept that Victor liked his dancing and might, could, _did_ also like him was a bit of an overstatement. He couldn’t completely ignore, though, that the man sometimes had a behavior that made him - and apparently other people, considering what Chris, Yuri Plisetsky and Phichit said - think so. Trying to be as objective as possible in his judgment of the situation as Phichit suggested, he started making lists. Every day, before going to bed, he would take a piece of paper and a pen and write down all the evidence he collected during the day, then he would add the page to one of his albums with the posters. There were things like “he leaned in closer than necessary when he spoke to me”, “he hooked his arm with mine while we were walking” and similar. And there were always _lots_ of things to write down.

After they returned to Tokyo, he decided to try experimenting things in a more ‘active’ way, too and he was surprised to see Victor’s response always overcame his expectations. If Yuuri dressed up in a slightly more revealing outfit, Victor would watch him with half-lidded eyes, whenever he would initiate a physical contact of any kind, a brush of fingers, a half hug, a pat on the arm, he would smile as if he had won something precious. Yuuri woke up every night to reassure himself that it wasn’t a dream, unbelieving how he could have been so lucky. That was the reason why, when Victor asked that they started working on the actual choreography for his audition, he wanted badly to impress him. He knew that Victor wouldn’t have liked his first decision to let him choose the music or just use one of the songs from the playlist at random, so he took courage in his hands and presented him a composition a friend of his made some years prior. It was a melody that he had always liked but never felt comfortable dancing to. He had tried several times to create a choreography to it but there was always something that was off. He wanted to prove himself that now he could do it and he wanted to show it to Victor.

The look the Russian gave him when he told him that was so incredibly pleased that Yuuri’s heart swelled with pride. He wrote an accurate description of that moment in his “evidence journal”, as he called it.

Working together with Victor and making up a choreography was incredibly easy, like it happened with the semi-improvised _pas de deux_ they created in Italy. Their ideas complemented each other perfectly and every step was full of emotion and purpose. Yuuri thought that it probably had a lot to do with the fact that he basically learned to dance by looking at Victor’s performances so it was only natural that their styles meddled so effectively.

The final _piéce_ was ready sooner that they both even dared to hope and they went out to celebrate, sharing a bottle of saké and toasting to their successful partnership. It was then that Victor dropped the bomb:

“I did some research, there’s going to be a regional competition next month here in Kyushu. We are still in time for the qualifications, I would like you to compete with the new choreography to gain more confidence in dancing to it.”

Yuuri gaped.

“A competition? I… I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“Why? You should know that it’s different to dance when someone from the outside judges you, it would be good for you to get to the audition with a performance which isn’t completely untested.”

“I know but...”

“What’s the problem?”

“I...” Yuuri once again debated over whether to be honest about his anxiety issues with him and once again decided against it in the end. He shook his head and with the firmest voice he could fathom he said:

“Okay, let’s do it.”

Victor looked at him in puzzlement.

“Are you sure? You can talk to me if there is something wrong, you know that, right?”

“Yes, I am just a little nervous every time I have to compete against other people but it’s actually a good idea to try out the choreography for real before the day of the audition.”

It was not. It really was not. Competing and failing would make him even more self-conscious about everything. The first time he did a new choreography in front of someone he was a little dizzy with excitement and adrenaline so he could pull something off, the second or third those faded away and everything would be overcome by only anxiety. He needed to do his best not to disappoint Victor but he really didn’t know how to do it.

 

They practiced the choreography every day, sometimes changing the music to better focus on the technique or on singular steps without being distracted by the story behind them and to avoid falling completely into muscle memory and have the _piéce_ lose its meaning. Victor chose the craziest songs for those moments, once even going all the way to find some weird anime soundtrack that had Yuuri doubled over with laughter. He really tried to stay serious in practice but he couldn’t get to the end of the dancing. Victor admitted that he didn’t think he would have gone as far as he had and he felt a mixture of amusement and admiration at how serious Yuuri was with his work. 

Then, the day of the qualifications arrived. 

They traveled by train towards the location they had been assigned to and proceeded to complete Yuuri’s registration. He was given a number to attach to his body in exchange for the disk with his music on and he was told to wait until he was called. 

Yuuri sat on a bench outside of the room with the familiar feeling of being underwater and struggling to breathe. His legs were shaking and his vision blurred. All the fun and the confidence he had felt in the previous weeks training with Victor completely forgotten with the feeling of inadequacy he was deep into now. He had seen some of the other competitors practicing and they were all incredibly good. He would only embarrass himself and, what was even worse, he would disappoint Victor, making him look like a bad teacher who couldn’t even teach his student to pass some qualification. He wanted to scream that Victor had nothing to do with it, he was amazing, it was him who wasn’t good enough. No matter how many times he had promised himself to do his best to make his mentor proud, he couldn’t focus. His heart was pounding in the back of his throat. Victor would leave him, would see him cry and fail and would run away. Why would the World lead him on in believing even if for a second that Victor could care about him just to take him away the following moment? A sob escaped his lips despite he was doing everything in his power to hide his distress. Victor heard and was by his side in an instant.

“What’s happening, Yuuri? Do you feel alright?”

_No. No, I don’t, I’m scared, I hate this, I…_

“Y-yes, don’t worry Victor.” He forced a smile.

“Yuuri.”

“It’s true, everything is fine, I swear.”

A voice interrupted them to call for the first number. Yuuri visibly shivered.

“Let’s go outside, come.” Commanded Victor. Yuuri let him lead him away, not able to protest.

When they were in the little garden outside of the building, Yuuri couldn’t hold back his tears any longer, frustration and anxiety having the best of him. Victor froze on his spot.

“Yuuri talk to me, tell me what’s happening, please.”

Yuuri tried to look at him through his glassy eyes and force himself to breathe to avoid having a panic attack in front of him but he couldn't.

“I-I suffer from anxiety, sometimes it gets really bad, especially when I have to face competitions.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me before?” Victor sounded angry but also hurt and worried.

“I didn’t want you to think less of me and leave.”

“Leave? Why would you think that I wanted to leave? I thought we were past that by now!”

“We are… I mean, I think we are, it’s just… You are _Victor Nikiforov_ and I’m just… me.”

“This doesn’t make any sense, I’m not here because I am Victor Nikiforov, I’m here because I thought that you trusted me to help you with your dancing! Apparently, I was wrong.”

“You are not!”

“You didn’t trust me enough to be honest with me. I suspected this for a while but I tried not to be paranoid about it.” He laughed a dry and sad laugh. Yuuri was terrified of the answer but he asked anyway:

“What did you suspect?”

“That you don’t want me here because of the person I am but because of what I represent. I am not some _legend_ , you know? I am a real person, with real feelings.”

It was like a knife was being twisted on Yuuri’s chest. A conversation echoed in his mind of Victor telling him to _‘have a fresh start and get to know each other’_. Even back then, he had wanted to get into his life and be known as just Victor instead of the living legend and for all this time Yuuri had done nothing but fail him.

“I-I know.”

“No, you don’t! It’s true that you are more open with me lately, since the banquet in Italy and all, but you still keep me on some sort of pedestal. You don’t feel yourself like my equal and you treat me with kid gloves! Don’t you see? Everyone treats me like that! The main reason why I have been attracted to you is that you didn’t! You told me that you just wanted me to be Victor, you asked me to help you with your choreography, like I was a person, like I mattered and now… You are just like them, a person who wants to admire me from a distance but doesn’t want to actually know me and be known in return.”

Yuuri was shattering to pieces. It was true. He had treated him like that even after everything and he hadn’t even realized it. He was a mess but he was also making Victor suffer and he didn’t know what to say to make things right. He couldn’t give Victor what he needed, he was no good, he had failed him every step of the way.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled before turning around and running away, leaving behind a trail of angry tears and broken dreams.

“Yuuri, wait!” Vitor yelled but it was too late, he had already disappeared behind the corner of the building and into the foreign town.

 

Victor paced the corridor back and forth, biting his lower lip. He hadn’t meant to shout at him like that. Yuuri was hurting, he wasn’t in a right state of mind, he was already suffering from anxiety and he didn’t need Victor to attack him. He talked to the judges and explained that Yuuri had had an inconvenience and they agreed to put him last in the line but he had to dance before the end of the day if he wanted to have a chance. The problem now was that he didn’t know how to bring him back. He had tried to call him but he found his phone in the changing room with the rest of his stuff. On top of that, he really felt sorry and regretted his timing but he didn’t want to take his words back either. If all Yuuri wanted was being near some celebrity then their newfound closeness, the _partnership_ and even Victor’s feelings meant nothing.

For three hours Victor continued to walk frantically around the building, moving from the changing rooms to all of the exits and to the main corridor again until finally, a trembling figure stepped over the entrance door. He was pale, only his eyes and cheeks were colored in a deep crimson and he had strained tears all over his face but the look in his eyes was so fierce it took Victor’s breath away. Before he could say anything, Yuuri stopped him with a hand.

“I’m sorry if I caused you troubles by running away like that, it was stupid of me. If they’ll let me, I’m going to dance now, I owe it to myself to at least try and qualify for that competition.”

Victor was staring at him in admiration. He was a study in contrasts, his voice was raw and hoarse yet the words coming out of his mouth were sure. He tried to reply but again Yuuri interrupted him.

“I can’t talk right now, I need to do this first.”

“I… Okay.” Victor resigned. “They agreed to postpone your audition, so you should have a little more time to wash your face and change clothes.”

Yuuri nodded. He didn’t know if he would actually be able to pull this off but he meant what he said. He was anxious and a mess sometimes but he wasn’t a quitter, he had never been and he wasn’t about to start now just because Victor had been terrible at dealing with the situation. He had thought about their conversation and he recognized that some of the things Victor said were probably true but he had chosen the worst possible moment to point them out, causing Yuuri to need a lot more time to calm down his nerves than usual. They would need to sort things out between them but, for now, the priority was the dance, he didn’t want to throw away months of work without even trying. He moved to the bathroom to try and make himself presentable again. He knew how to use concealer because he had needed it for almost every one of his past competitions but today the situation was far worse.

Victor approached him slowly. Unsure and with a quiet voice he asked:

“Do you want some help with that?”

Yuuri pondered it. He didn’t want to think about anything related to Victor but he could really use the help. He nodded and passed him the box of makeup. Victor gently, as if he was afraid of breaking him, brushed his hair and combed it back, cleaned his face and adjusted the concealer, the foundation and a little eyeliner to make his eyes stand out more than the puffiness underneath. He put some lip balm on his chapped lips and covered everything with powder as a final touch. Then he smiled.

“I don’t want to make things worse, so I’ll say something you won’t even have to think about. Go out there and dance the way you can honestly say you like best. Don’t care about the score or the judges. Dance for yourself. You are beautiful and you can do this.”

Yuuri couldn’t help himself and smirked.

“Couldn’t you just say this before?”

Victor scratched the back of his neck. Yuuri thought that it was endearing to see his perfect facade shattered by unsureness for once. 

“Yeah… Maybe. I’m really bad with people crying in front of me.” He said.

“I just need you to have faith that I can win for me when I can’t.”

“I do. You got this.”

“I’ll try.”

“Good luck, Yuuri.”

As always, the sound of his name on Victor’s lips made his heart flutter. He gave him a little smile before thanking him and heading outside and towards the dance room.

He was weak from the tears and the stress of the day but he was determined and crying beforehand had actually helped him to calm his nerves. He danced imperfectly but it was enough to pull through. He passed the qualification just barely.

When the results came out, Victor was beaming with pride. They walked away and returned to Yuuri’s house without talking. Yuuri was exhausted and needed to sleep on it before addressing the topic again and Victor respected it.

 

That night, Yuuri didn’t know what to write in his journal.

He didn’t even know if keeping that journal was a good idea at all. The truth is that he had fallen in love with dance in the form of Victor Nikiforov from the very first time he saw him perform and he didn’t know how to give either of them a new shape, so he didn’t think he was capable of loving either of them apart. Dancing and love and Victor were all one and the same in his heart but he knew that it wasn’t right. It was unfair towards Victor who was his own person, not an abstract ideal. No matter how many times Phichit told him that or how many times he repeated it, he had never actually realized how much that sentiment was carved into his soul. But could he get over something he had lived upon for his entire life? If Victor wasn’t dance would he still love dancing? And if dance wasn’t Victor what would Victor be? He was lost. He stared at the empty page in front of him for what felt like an eternity. People talked about those turning points in life, those moments in which you have to make an important decision to change yourself. ‘Today is the first day of the rest of my life’ or something like that. But could he? Did he want that? He searched his heart and his mind for an answer but he didn’t know how to read it. Every choice he had ever made had been driven by dance and Victor, Victor and dance and he had always been sure about what to do because of it. 

He knew that he was going nowhere so he put his pen down and took his practice bag instead. Careful to avoid making any noise, he stepped out of his room, took the key to Minako’s Studio and headed to his favorite practice room.

After a little stretching, he climbed on the aerial silk, tied himself up in a cocoon and let his head and arms dangle, feeling the familiar and soothing ache in his muscles. He let his thoughts wash over him, images ran through his mind, conversations, people he met, touches, choreographies, feelings, Phichit’s plan, the Dance Week, the Bolshoi, Victor, _Victor_.

“Yuuri… Do you want to talk?”

The voice made him jump out of his skin. He opened his eyes and focused on the other figure in the room. From his position, he saw him upside down but he would have recognized those pale hair and blue eyes everywhere. He sighed and began to unknot himself and climb down.

“I really don’t know.” He answered honestly when he was back on the ground.

“I figured when I heard you running away from the house.”

“I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

Victor shrugged.

“I couldn’t sleep either.”

He sat on the floor and motioned for Yuuri to join him. He flopped down a few feet away.

“You should stretch, you’ve been up there for a while, you’ll be sore tomorrow if you don’t.” Victor suggested softly. Yuuri knew that he was right so he didn’t protest and instead he extended one of his legs and bent over it. 

When Yuuri spoke again, his voice was shy, like it was the first time they ever talked. It may as well have been.

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know.” Victor moved closer. “Would you mind if I help you?”

Dance had always been a glue between them, something that they could rely on when communication failed.

“Okay.”

Victor gently put his hand on Yuuri’s back to help him stretch. When he shifted, he followed the movement, deepening it and feeling the extension of the muscles beneath his palms. The moment they finished the exercises, Victor pulled away to give him his space, as he had learned to do in the time they had spent together but Yuuri took his hand back on his own.

“This is difficult for me because I have always admired the Victor Nikiforov but I really want to get to know the real you, if you’ll give me another chance.”

Victor smiled.

“We’ll figure it out together. It is difficult for me to, to open up with someone. I’m sorry about yelling at you when you told me about the anxiety, I shouldn’t have done it.”

“No, you shouldn’t but it’s not your fault. We wouldn’t have come to that if I had been honest from the start.”

“You need to tell me everything so that I can help you take care of yourself if it happens again.”

“I will.”

They stayed there, contemplating their joined hands until Victor broke the silence again.

“Do you want to withdraw from the competition?”

“No, I don’t. I want to do it.”

“Okay. This time, we’ll face it together.”

Yuuri felt like crying. He whispered, “Thank you.”

The answer was easy. He didn’t have to solve everything on his own in a single defining moment, he could take his time to learn things over again, learn how to dance a dance that had a different form than Victor’s and learn how to know a Victor that wasn’t the dancer he had always admired. A Victor who was real, breathing his same air, bathing in his onsen, laughing and talking and making mistakes and drawing lessons from them instead of an idea, a pretty face with a fake smile hanging from his wall or a breathtaking but far away dancer on a video. Victor was there and wanted to be and they had all the time they could need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Now the angst is officially over, I swear!  
> Next chapter will be the last one of the actual story, then there'll be a little epilogue, I'll update both of them soon.  
> In case you haven't guessed, Yuuri's song is Yuri on Ice, from the original show, I haven't described the choreography here because we'll see it at the audition...


	16. Russia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " It was the time to show how much he had improved during the past year, to prove that Victor had been right about him. He couldn’t fail him. He had never been able to win over his anxieties for himself, but doing it for Victor, the man who taught him to trust in himself, that he could do. "
> 
> \--
> 
> The moment of truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back! I'm so sad that this is ending, I will miss writing this so much! Anyway, this is probably going to be the final chapter of the story, the next one is going to be more of an epilogue so it's shorter and it is basically already written, so I'll post it soon.  
> Finally, we go back to where everything began! I hope you'll enjoy!

In the weeks that followed their night at the Dance Studio, Yuuri worked hard to reinvent himself on and off the stage. As he continued practicing his _piéce_ , he forced himself to rely on Victor more and discovered that his anxiety was easier to bear that way. He tried not to be blinded by his idolization towards Victor and found out the little imperfections that made him more human and that made Yuuri able to open himself up more, too, because if Victor had shortcomings, how could he _not_ have them? Victor was happier than he had ever been. He had always been enamored with Yuuri’s dancing and he had already figured out that he liked him but, now that Yuuri was opening up sincerely with him and that they were getting to know each other for real, he was finding himself falling more and more for the man. They weren’t officially dating but after their confrontation and everything that followed, no one could say that their relationship was strictly professional anymore, it had probably never been.

They spent every single moment together, whether it was in training or doing other things and they talked about everything. Gradually, Yuuri became less reticent even in hugging him.

The day of the regional competition, Yuuri was strangely in a good mood. He took Victor’s arm as they walked, which was something that sometimes Victor did but that he had never initiated and kept talking until his number got called. He went out dancing with the most assured expression Victor had ever seen on him. He didn’t falter the entire time and when he finished, he smiled at Victor so peacefully that it was like watching the moon on a clear night. It made something snap inside Victor and he couldn’t help himself anymore. His legs were moving before he could realize it. He ran towards him and jumped with the intention to hug him tightly. In the future, when asked, none of them could say if what happened instead was initiated by Victor, Yuuri, or if it was a complete accident. Either case, their lips met and didn’t separate until the judges called them minutes later.

Yuuri won a silver that, to him, looked like the brightest of golds.

 

If they were inseparable before, it was nothing like what they became after. Victor couldn’t take his hands off him for more than a couple of seconds and Yuuri wouldn’t stop blushing but he wouldn’t protest either.

 

“With how much you two are smiling, I bet your cheeks ache all the time!” Commented Mari.

Yuuri stuck his tongue out at her and she chuckled with an affectionate look.

“When are you leaving?” She asked.

“In two days.”

She nodded, her eyes turning a little sad as she glanced at Victor.

“I’m a little mad at you for stealing my little brother away like that, you know?”

“He is not stealing me, Mari-nee-chan! I’ve always wanted to go to Russia even before he came here!” Interjected Yuuri.

“Yeah, but before I could hope that you would come back, eventually… Now I’m not sure anymore.”

Victor turned serious as he replied, sharing with her a meaningful look: “I promise I’ll do my best to take care of him, Mari.”

“I know you will.”

She left the room, causing Victor to release a breath. In a hushed voice, he commented to Yuuri’s ear:

“She is so scary sometimes!”

“You don’t have to tell me. But she is only being protective. She always has been.”

Victor nodded in understanding and they continued their packing. The time for their scheduled departure for Russia was near and they kept distracting themselves so they were nowhere near finishing.

“You never told me what your plans are for when you return to Russia.” Asked Yuuri as he folded the pile of clothes he had chosen to bring with him.

“It’s true, I didn’t...”

“Victor...”

Victor smirked at him, then laughed.

“Before I met you, Yuuri, I was empty. I couldn’t find happiness in my job anymore and I didn’t know what to do with my life. Meeting you has given me my inspiration back, now I’m overflowing with ideas, things that I want to do, styles that I want to try, most of all I rediscovered all the things that I loved about dancing in the first place. I’m going to ask Yakov if I can have my place back in the Company, for sure, but I’m also going to ask if I can have a more active role in directing and teaching. I don’t know what he’ll say but I’m ready for everything. As long as you support me.”

Yuuri felt tears filling his eyes.

“You should give me a warning before you say things like that!”

Victor hugged him and buried his lips in his hair.

“I’m sorry. love, I got carried away.”

When he replied, his voice was barely a whisper, muffled by the fabric of Victor’s shirt:

“You know it’s the same for me, right? I’ve hit a dead end, too. I was too obsessed with my dream and frustrated at myself because I felt like I wasn’t good enough to fulfill it. I had lost my love for dancing that was the only thing that had always mattered. Phichit-kun was right when he told me that to get my bearings I needed to resize my obsession with _Victor Nikiforov_ but I don’t know if I could have done it without you.”

“ _He_ is quite a good dancer but he doesn’t deserve you ruining your life.”

Yuuri smiled and raised his eyes to meet Victor’s. The Russian pressed a kiss to his lips before adding:

“You could have done it even without me, you are stronger than you think. But I’m glad I could help.”

They ended up forgetting the suitcases again.

 

 **phichit+chu:** Yuuri!! Tomorrow is the Big Day!! Are you ready????

 **katsukiyuri:** I think I’m going to be sick.  
**katsukiyuri:** We just landed in Moscow and I have this awful sense of deja-vu  
**katsukiyuri:** I can’t believe it’s already been a year…

 **phichit+chu:** You are going to be fine, you are not alone this time!  
**phichit+chu:** And I’m rooting for you from here!!  
**phichit+chu:** Little Minami and I are going to have a conference call with the rest of your fan-club to discuss your audition, so you’d better let me know how it went BEFORE Victor posts anything on Twitter or Instagram! Keep your boyfriend on a leash!

 **katsukiyuri:** …  
**katsukiyuri:** OH MY GOD PHICHIT

 **phichit+chu:** What? Can’t I have a conference call with your fan-club? I’m honorary President!

 **katsukiyuri:** No, no the other thing…  
**katsukiyuri:** VICTOR NIKIFOROV IS MY BOYFRIEND

 **phichit+chu:** Yes? I thought you had noticed… Even if you missed the news first hand (which I very much doubt) it’s all over Internet…

 **katsukiyuri:** Maybe I’m dead.

 **phichit+chu:** No, you aren’t, Yuuri, you are just very very happy.

 **katsukiyuri:** I am.  
**katsukiyuri:** I love you, Phichit-kun! I’ll call you soon (before he posts anything, I promise) :)

 **phichit+chu:** I love you too!!  
**phichit+chu:** Good luck!!!  
**phichit+chu:** (You’d better!)

 

 **katsukiyuri:** Victor asked me to specify that I love you - > platonically.

 **phichit+chu:** :)

 

Yuuri entered the Bolshoi Theatre the following day feeling his insides twisting. Victor had kept a hand protectively around his waist the whole time but he would have to let go, eventually. As they approached the changing room, they met Mila and Georgi who were lazing around since their lessons had been canceled due to the auditions. Victor greeted them happily:

“Hi! We haven’t seen in a while! How are things here in Russia? What did I miss?”

“Yakov hadn’t stopped yelling from the moment you called him to say you were staying in Japan.” Answered Mila, her reproachful tone betrayed by the mirth in her eyes. “Seriously, though, we all missed you.”

“I missed you, too! This is Yuuri, my _protégé_ and the love of my life.”

Yuuri almost chocked.

“Victor! You can’t say things like that!”

“Why? It’s true, I tell you every time.”

“Yes but… Telling others is different.”

Their bickering was interrupted by Mila’s laugh.

“You two are so cute! This is something I thought I would never be able to witness: the mighty Victor Nikiforov in love. It’s good to see you like this, Vitya. Yuuri, welcome to the Russian family.”

Yuuri blushed to the roots of his hair.

“T-Thank you.”

They sat on a couch in the room that had been set up for the candidates to wait together for the audition to start. Other dancers arrived one after the other but they noticed that someone was missing.

“Why isn't Yuri here, yet?” Asked Mila.

“I haven’t heard from him because we landed late yesterday evening and we went straight to sleep. Do you think he is okay?” Replied Victor and Yuuri added, worry seeping through his voice:

“He wouldn’t miss this for the World.”

“If it’s his parents there’s not much we can do...” Said Georgi who had been relatively quiet until then. His tone was grave and his words had both Mila and Victor looking sorry but resigned as they nodded.

“What are you saying? There has to be something we can do! We can’t let him miss the audition!” Yuuri all but yelled.

Victor tried to calm him down:

“You don’t know the situation, Yuuri, it’s very delicate.”

“I don’t care about the situation! He told me that he has trouble with his parents because they don’t approve of his choice to dance but he can’t miss this! I won’t allow it.”

He jumped to his feet and started marching out of the Theatre. The nervousness about his audition completely forgotten.

Victor ran after him.

“Yuuri, wait! You don’t even know where to go!”

“I’ll figure something out. I can’t stay here and do nothing.”

“Yuuri are you sure you don’t want to stay here? You could miss your call, too. We can go and look for him.” Asked Mila when the other two Russians reached them.

“No, I’ll go. Where is his place?”

Georgi motioned to the entryway and answered:

“Not far. We can take my car if you want.”

“Thanks, Georgi, let’s go.”

They hurried to the car and drove past the Theatre to Yuri’s place. There, they immediately heard the commotion. His voice was raspy and broken from anger and tears and he was yelling:

“...can’t do this to me! I worked hard for this, this is the most important day of my life!”

The volume of the answer must have been lower because they couldn’t catch it. Yuuri asked Victor to translate for him and, when he did, he knocked on the door furiously.

“Who is it?”

It was Victor to answer, changing the language to English so that everyone could understand.

“Hi, this is Victor and some other friends of Yuri’s, we were worried because we didn’t see him this morning. We don’t have much time so we were hoping to give him a ride.”

“Yuri won’t go to that audition.” The voice on the other side of the door replied dryly.

Yuuri was murderous:

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t think that’s fair. He has dedicated his whole life to this, you can’t take this chance away from him.”

Yuri’s father opened the door then.

“I don’t know who you are but this is my son we are talking about and he has already lost too much time in that _school_.”

“It wasn’t a loss of time, he was doing it for his future! Don’t you want him to be happy? To choose a life he can be proud of?”

"Of course I do but he won’t be happy when he will be broke and unemployed.”

“Broke?? Victor, please tell him how much money do you make.”

Victor couldn’t believe himself, this was what Yuri was dealing with every day? No wonder he was always so frustrated. He should have had this conversation much sooner.

“A lot. I have my own house and car and now that I’m older I’m starting to teach other people, too. There are a lot of opportunities in this field for someone as talented as Yuri. But it’s a battlefield out there, if he misses this chance he will lose a crucial year for his career. Also, I personally didn’t finish my studies beside dancing but it is possible to continue them, Yuuri here is graduated.”

“Are you?” Asked Yuri’s father, turning to the Japanese man with a curious look.

“Yes, I went to college while I was in Detroit working for a Ballet Company there and now I’m hoping to be accepted in the same Company Yuri has basically already a ticket to. The Bolshoi is one of the most important Theatres in the World and it is an honor to have the chance to do this audition. I can help him study for his other subjects if that’s what you are concerned about.”

“Me, too.” Interjected Mila.

Yuri appeared behind his father and looked at the four people in front of him with surprise clear on his face.

“What are you all doing here?” He asked.

They didn’t answer, just watched his father’s face as he struggled. They could see that he had been moved by their will to go all the way there just to help his son and that he was questioning his decision but he honestly thought that what he had been doing was for Yuri’s good. Finally, giving Yuri a pointed look, he said:

“They told me that they will help you continue your studies if I let you attend this audition today, so hurry up and go with them, before I change my mind. And you, your name is Yuri too right?” - Yuuri nodded - “Don’t go back on your promise.”

“I won’t Mr. Plisetsky. Thank you for your understanding.”

Yuri’s eyes widened at him and he moved them from Yuuri to his father and back.

“ _Yura_ , we have to go or we’ll miss the audition for real.” The Japanese said with a softer voice.

Yuri grinned, took his bag and ran out of the house.

 

The audition was almost the same as Yuuri remembered it, they started by doing simple exercises and gradually the technical difficulty increased and the number of participants lowered. Victor was in the Director’s office, discussing his return and his new position in the Company but Yuuri wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t alone there and he didn’t need his physical presence to be sure about Victor’s support.

He and Yuri exchanged encouraging words and smiles when one or the other needed to dance and it was grounding to have a familiar face among the crowd of competitors. Of course, Yuri was amazing as he flew through the dance room with a grace that was breathtaking, but if Victor loved his dancing, he couldn’t be that bad, either.

After the short lunch break, it was time for the part Yuuri dreaded the most. The _fouetté_ exercise that he had failed the previous time. As if he was trying to mock him, Victor planned his triumphal entrance at that exact moment. He had probably been waiting outside of the room listening to Lilia’s explanation just for this reason. He opened the door and said:

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, please go on.”

Then turned to Yuuri and winked. The dancer in the front line couldn’t suppress a small chuckle. Luckily, Lilia was busy throwing a deadly glare at Victor and missed it.

At the end of the day, both he and Yuri were among the chosen people for the final test: their own choreography. As they waited for their turn, Yuri approached him.

“I hadn’t had a chance to properly thank you for what you did with my father...” He started.

“You trusted me when you told me about your troubles with your parents, it was the least I could do.”

Yuri bit his lip, still a little uncomfortable with being so honest with other people. To ease the tension, he added:

“It’s quite the difference from last year, uh?”

Yuuri snorted.

“Tell me about it.”

“What are you going to dance to?”

“Victor and I created an original _piéce_. It’s neo-classical, I hope they won’t judge me poorly for that.”

“Nah, Lilia loves neo-classical choreographies if they are good, don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks. What about you?”

Yuri blushed.

“Actually… I’m going to dance to Puck’s variation… The Detroit Ballet version.”

“What? Really? Now you are going to make me cry! I’m so honored that you chose that _piéce_... But are you sure? You are amazing with jumps and we cut almost all of them off there...”

“That’s one of the reasons. I want to show them that I’m not the little kid who only knew how to use his strength and his flexibility to do difficult jumps and show off. I want to prove that I can dance to a more subdued and emotional choreography as well.”

“That’s very brave of you. I’m sure you’ll do great.”

He was called soon after and he could just smile as he walked in the room.

 

“Number 26, please.”

Yuuri took a deep breath and felt a squeeze in his hand. Turning to his side he saw Victor standing there. The Russian moved closer to his ear and whispered:

“Good luck, love.”

Yuuri gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before thanking him and slipping away.

His music started as he walked slowly towards the center of the designed space for the dancing. It was the time to show how much he had improved during the past year, to prove that Victor had been right about him. He couldn’t fail him. He had never been able to win over his anxieties for himself, but doing it for Victor, the man who taught him to trust in himself and to love, that he could do. He poured everything he had into his interpretation. A _pirouétte_ with his arms elongated over his head and his eyes closed, then slowly retreating his hands towards his chest. Unlike all his other choreographies that had always expressed longing and dreaming, this time his moves were steadier. He was not someone who reached for an impossible dream anymore, he was someone who was actively working to realize it and that believed that he could do it. It showed in the sureness with which he shifted from a step to the following one. As the music built up in volume and speed, he entered a sequence that came directly from one of Victor’s _pieces_ , to tell everyone that he hadn’t forgotten where his inspiration came from but also that he wasn’t fighting alone anymore. There wasn’t the sense of inadequacies that he felt before when he used parts of Victor’s choreographies and that made him decrease the difficulty or the speed of the moves. A _grand jeté_ , _saut de basque_ , then a series of turns with always evolving _port de bras_. His arms and his head never fixed in a place as he jumped or spun. He ended with a hand over his heart and the other extended, his slender fingers pointing to something that was there, not far away and unreachable.

He bowed and left the room grinning to find Victor bouncing on his own two feet.

“Yuuri! Amazing!”

Yuuri chuckled:

“You shouldn’t peep from the door Victor, it’s unprofessional.”

“I couldn’t miss it. It was even better than at the competition!”

“I can still do better. I stumbled here and there.”

Victor didn’t have a chance to comment because at that moment the last of the participants exited the room, which meant that soon Lilia would come out to announce the names of the winners. He could sense the shift in Yuuri’s mood instantly. He had been able to keep his nerves in control until then but now it was the moment of truth. He leaned his arm on the shorter man's shoulders to steady him and he caught a glimpse of blonde hair approaching his other side.

“How are you feeling?” Yuri asked.

“Like I’m about to tear apart...” - Answered Yuuri, his stare fixed on the closed door in front of them. - “And you?”

“We will be on that list.” Yuri said firmly, sure, not an ounce of doubt in his tone but a closer look would show that he was biting the inside of his cheek. He offered his hand for Yuuri to squeeze and the man gladly took it. Standing there, with his boyfriend pressed up close to one of his sides and his hopefully new colleague and friend on the other, he felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. He felt at _home_. All that was missing for that moment to be perfect were two little names on a list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! If you want, let me know what you think about the story in the comments or come find me on [Tumblr](https://onpointedfeetandbrokendreams.tumblr.com/)!  
> I also posted some previews of my next fic there, if you liked my writing and you are interested in checking that out, too.


	17. The end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And they lived happily ever after...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is the little epilogue I promised! I just wanted to thank you for the time you spent in reading this little thing, I hope it wasn't completely awful and that you had a good time in following me through this story. Any little thing means the world to me, if you left a kudos or a comment or if you bookmarked the story, or even if you just read one chapter or two! So really, thank you, with all my heart!

Yuuri stared at the words in front of him until they lost their meaning. He didn’t even realize that he had started crying until he saw Victor wiping away his tears. The Russian kissed him on the forehead whispering how proud he was of them. Yuri was beaming on his other side, his heart swelling with happiness. They were in, they made it, both of them. He couldn’t believe it. He was still sobbing when Victor left his side. He looked at him with his eyes lost, in a silent plea not to go away but he motioned for him to turn around. As he did, he understood.

“What are you doing here? What about your call with my fan-club? Are you crazy? You didn’t need to travel all the way here!”

Phichit laughed, hugging him and he said:

“I didn’t trust you to let me know about your audition before Victor posted anything so I figured my only choice was to come here myself.”

“I will refund your plane ticket!”

“Shh, don’t worry about it, I’m here also for another reason but first, congratulations! I am so happy for you!”

“Thank you! Did you plot with Victor behind my back to come here?”

“Of course I did! We are going to go and celebrate now!”

“I feel like I'm going to cry forever.”

“I know. You have every right to.”

Yuuri smiled at him.

“Wait, what’s the other reason why you are here then?”

“Brace yourself, I have big news!”

“Tell me!”

They stepped a little away from the others and Phichit was visibly excited.

“So, I talked to Celestino about my doubts, my future, and everything. He said that it was a while that he wanted to add a different kind of show to our repertoire, to expand the influence of the Theatre and to challenge the Company to a new style of performances and, since I am the one that has more experience in dancing to things other than Ballet... He asked me to propose something! If he’ll like it, I can choreograph the performance and direct it!”

“Phichit-kun! That’s wonderful! Did you decide what to do?”

“Not yet, I texted Chris a couple of weeks ago to let him know that I decided not to audition for his Company and why and he suggested that I asked Victor for advice because he is the best in surprising people and in creating original and fresh things. I did a little math and called him. He suggested that I study with him for a while here in Russia so that he can help me with what he knows about choreographing!”

“Wow! I can’t believe none of you told me!”

“We decided it would be better to make it a surprise and I’d rather give you the news in person if I could.”

“Now I’m going to start crying again, I'm so excited for you! I’m sure you are going to be perfect!”

“Thank you.”

As he was talking to his friend, Yuri looked proudly at his namesake from his spot beside Victor, then he smirked at the older Russian:

“I warn you, if you ever treat him badly or if you leave him, I’ll be there to steal him from you.”

Victor laughed, he knew that the threat was all in affection. Yuri may have had some feelings for Yuuri but he respected his choice and he was really happy for them. He countered, his words serious despite the light tone of the conversation:

”Don’t worry, I have no intention of ever leaving him.”

“You’d better! Just know that I’ll be waiting.”

“You are going to find the right person for you, Yura”

Yuri just shrugged. He didn’t care, he knew that he couldn’t keep loving an ideal forever and he was a couple of years too late to actually be a competitor to Victor in that but his time would come eventually. Maybe one day he’d fall in love with someone else and forget all about those confused feelings he had been having. For the moment, he was happy that he had experienced them because they got him to overcome a lot of his anger issues and to actually get to be friend with an amazing person.

He and Victor were a lot of things to each other: rivals, friends, family, and now they’d be even working for the same Company. All those roles were equally present as they shared a meaningful smile and said nothing. They didn’t hug or shake hands, they didn’t need any confirmation. The silent look between them was enough.

The moment was interrupted by a cheerful voice:

“What are my two favorite Russians conspiring about this time?”

Victor turned to him and answered:

“Nothing, my love, we were just taking a moment to appreciate how far we have all come.”

Yuuri kissed Victor on the cheek and bumped his fist with Yuri, winking at the younger Russian and saying to him:

“Apparently, we are going to be rivals for real, now.”

Yuri grinned:

“Prepare yourself to dance to minor roles for the rest of your life because I’m not going to let you have anything better.”

Victor stepped in the middle of them.

“My my… As much as I love you, my dear Yuris, I’m still the  _ prima  _ in this Company, so you both are going to fight for the secondary roles.”

They laughed and started walking away from the Theatre. Phichit had said that he would precede them to Victor’s apartment, where they had set up a little dinner to celebrate so they took it slow to follow. As they were going, Yuuri leaned closer to Yuri and shout-whispered:

“We’ll see about that, old men aren’t exactly able to keep up with solo variations easily.”

Yuri doubled over with laughter and Victor brought his hand to his chest in mock offense:

“Yuuuuuri!! You are wounding me!!”

Yuuri gave him that lovely smile that was always able to completely melt Victor away and told him softly:

“I was just kidding, dear. You can still be the best dancer in the World for now. But we are not going to go easy on you.”

Victor smiled too.

“I don’t expect you to, it’s going to be so fun to have a challenge with you two.”

Yuuri snook an arm around Victor’s waist and draped the other over Yuri’s shoulder as they kept laughing and talking all the way. Everything was finally falling into place. They were ready for everything that could come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Tumblr page I created for this story will stay on and I'm going to use it for my following projects as well as for reccing other fics, so if you want to come say hi it's always appreciated!  
> I posted the first chapter of my next fic, if you want to check it out, it's called "Where the road will take us" ([link](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13735473/chapters/31558395)).
> 
> I hope you have a good day, evening, night or whatever it is where you are!  
> With all my love,  
> Nigg


End file.
